Life, Love, and My Chemical Romance

Today the song Punk Rock 101 by Bowling For Soup was stuck in my head. I couldn't imagine why.
I finished taping the poster to Gerard's front door. It looked awesome. I was black with white and red letters that read, "Band Tryouts Here" with a bunch of musical instruments all around it. This entire week was filled with preparations for tryouts. We spent so much time making flyers, photocopying flyers, and then making people read the flyers. The drummers and guitar players would be arriving soon. I can only hope that Bob, Ray, and Frank show up.
Gerard was setting up a table on his front yard with three chairs for himself, Mikey, and I. I felt like Paula Abdul on Americal Idol.
Finally we took out seats and waited. The people should have arrived five minutes ago. Suddenly the thought that no body was going to arrive struck my head, "Gerard." I said sounding scared.
"Yeah?" he asked.
"What if nobody arrives?" I asked quietly. He put his arm around my shoulder.
"Believe me, people will come." his voice was so calming, it soothed my frazzled nerves. I think it was the way he spoke that made me feel like nothing was wrong, like nothing was ever wrong.
"Okay. You promise?" I asked.
"Of course." He said. Mikey was too engrossed with his Play Station Portable to care. Just then, someone walked up the driveway holding a guitar. It was Frank Iero. I couldn't contain my excitement when I saw him, I'd thought he'd be the hardest one to convince to be in the band. Sure, he still sat with the popular guys for some reason, but he was standing in front of me!
"Frank!" I practically screamed, "Hey, Frank!" I shouted. Mikey looked up for a split second then returned to his PSP.
"Hey." he sounded rather bored.
"Hey, Frank. I forgot you played the guitar." said Gerard.
"Oh, yeah. I do." he said. He was standing in front of us, "What is this, like an American Idol audition or something like that?" he asked, obviously trying to sound excited.
"Yeah, something like that." I said.
"Okay, should I play something or what? Becuase I don't think I have a lot of time..." he said sounding annoyed. I wonder why...
"Oh, yeah. Play anything." said Gerard. Mikey's full attention was not on his PSP anymore.
Frank began to play the chorus to Greenday's American Idiot. He did a very good job at it too. When he finished Gerard and I began to clap.
"Dude, that was awesome!" said Gerard excitedly.
"Yeah!" I agreed.
"Thanks." he said shyly.
"You better let him be in the band." said Mikey. Mikey doesn't talk much, but when he does, it meens something big.
"Yeah, what do you think, Gerard?" I asked.
"Okay. Frank. Give me your number and we'll call you tommorow," said Gerard sounding all professional and cool, "Okay?"
"Yeah, definitely." Gerard handed Frank a piece of paper in which he scribbled down his number, "Well I better be off." he said quickly.
"Bye!" I shouted. He said nothing back and instead ran off, back to his house, guitar in tow.
"Dude, Gerard." I said, "Frank is in the band." I said.
"No doubt about it." he said. He looked so hot just sitting their in the sun. A few minutes later, a van drove by the house. The song started in my head.
"It's stupid, contagious
To be broke and famous
Can someone please save us from punk rock 101"

The van stopped and out came someone I didn't recognize.
"Hey, do I know you?" I asked him as he walked up the driveway. He was rather chubby and had long brown hair. The guy could easily be described as punk rock.
"Uhh, no. You selling lemonade here?" he asked.
"No..." said Gerard.
"I know, just kidding. I heard about band tryouts. I'm a drummer." yeah, but I'm pretty sure he isn't Bob Bryar.
"Okay, do you have a name, let alone a drumset with you?" asked Gerard.
"Yeah." the stranger ran to his truck and in less than five minutes, there was a full drumset sitting in front of us.
"Well let's hear you." I still didn't know his name.
He started to play, and he was pretty good too. He played some drum solo I didn't recognize.
When he finished we started to clap.
"Dude, that was realy good." said Gerard. He obviously took a liking to this stranger.
"Yeah, your good..." I said. But you're not Bob... I thought.
The stranger quickly cleaned up his drumset.
"Okay, can you write your phone number and name here so we can call you tommorow?" asked Gerard. Mikey has not yet looked up at him.
The stranger scribbled onto the paper, said his goodbyes, and left.
"I think this guy would be a great drummer for the band." said Gerard happily. I looked down at the paper and grimaced.
It read, "Matt Pellisier 555-555-5555"
This is not good.