Punk Rox!

I sat on the very top of the hay bales, blaring music through my phone. Knives and Pens by none other than Black Veil Brides were playing right now.

I stared up at the ceiling, not knowing what else to do. I was so bored. I must’ve been 10ft above the ground, these hay bales were stacked pretty high. My parents stocked up on them just before the drought and hay prices sky rocketed. We live in Texas, by the way, but not everyone in Texas is country. I hate some of these people. Half of our neighbors are gossipy, racist, religious asswipes. I’m not even kidding. No, not everyone here is racist or mega religious, but it seems everyone I meet are!

With the exclusion of my friends, of course. They’re cool.

My parents are part of the religious, gossipy side of the Texan population. They aren’t racists, though, so I guess that’s a plus. Problem is, I’m only openly gay to my friends. I can’t come out to my family, they are crazy Catholic freaks. They literally will not except that homosexuality is a natural occurrence.

I’m the only gay guy in my group of friends, sure, there’s a bi chick, but that’s it. Everyone else is straight. I’m also the only “emo” kid, if you must know. Not many others around this area... I don’t think as myself as “emo”, I don’t do labels, but if that’s what you’d rather call me. Fine. I’m the type of person who is shy in public, but needs horns to hold up my halo around my small circle of friends.

Ethan would be your “skater boi”. Just a fun-loving, laid-back kind of guy. Ethan tries to laugh each and every day, always the one to look for a good time. He is a skater all the same, though. He lives for the half pipe. His family wasn’t particularly rich, but made enough to get by and still have pretty nice things.

Heath would be your “conceded hunk”. Also a fun-loving dude that’s just awesome to be around, like Ethan. Born into a rich family, him and his two brothers are rather high on the social ladder. It looks weird having a guy like him hanging out with kids like us, but Heath has no racists, biases, or really any hate. He’s really chill, but what do you expect of a Hollywood-born surfer? His main problem lies with people who mess with his brothers (us included) and people who diss surfing and his music. I don’t really know why he’s friends with us, all I know is that we’ve all known each other since we were in third grade. We weren’t all friends then, but we’ve been familiars since that time.

Skeet? He would be your “Michael Kelso”. A bit stoner-like, nothing seems to bug him. He, unlike Heath, was born into a poor family in a trailer park. He has two sisters and a younger brother. Skeet’s first name is actually Daniel, no middle name. I think his uncle started calling him “Skeeter” when he was little because he reminded him of a childhood friend with the same name and Skeet just stuck with it. His little sister Emilia has a much higher IQ then him. Hell, almost everyone does. Skeeter isn’t big on thinking... Or intelligence really. It’s kind of like taking care of a senile old man sometimes, but Skeet is a lot of fun to be around and he’s a brother to us all.

And me? I would be your “emo kid”. As was said before, I’m shy by nature, but when I’m with familiar faces, I turn into a down-right hyper mess. I’m rather evil and am extremely perverted. I’m a bit of a masochist. Shh, don’t tell haters. ;)

As Beautiful Remains played, I couldn’t help but wonder if it was wrong to be slightly turned on by the lyrics. Probably. I may be a little mental... Or a sociopath... I find violence, death, blood, and phallic (Heehee) related things very sexy for some, weird-ass reason. Is it wrong? Or is it perfectly normal for me to have sexy, bloody, murderous thoughts? It’s probably wrong... But do I really care?

No. I mean, I won't act on them so, what's it matter?

I suddenly saw a small, floating brown thing get dangerously close to my eyes. I quickly spazzed out and swatted the damn fruit fly away. Fucking little insects... They always aim for the eyes.

I was now sitting up and wondering what to do. I groaned out of boredom and lay back down.

Bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored, bored.

I yelled out as my mental state started cracking because of the boredom. I felt like I was going insane. It was awful. I was so fucking bored. And so, so dramatic!

I rolled over on my stomach, managing to keep my headphones in. My arms hung off the bale and I rested my head on the prickly hay.

“Fuuuuck,” I groaned, “So booooored,” I almost wanted cry, because then I’d feel something that isn’t boredom!

Then, to the rescue came my cat, Lilo. She climbed the bales and stood beside me. Her chubby little body hunched up a bit because of the tight space. Lilo is a pretty kitty, she’s a dark gray/brown tabby-Siamese mix.

“Hi, Lilo,” I talked to her like she could understand and/or care. All she wanted was to be pet.

Oh Well, Oh Well from Mayday Parade started playing and I immediately started singing. What can I say, this song is easy and it sounds awesome.

When you're alone, do you think of me?
And my diamond ring's thrown out to sea.
And when you love, do you love for me?
Like harmony, a never ending dream.

Oh well, oh well. I still hope for the best.
Say goodbye and send me off with a kiss farewell.
And I promise I'll be just as strong as I can be.
Maybe you could get some sleep tonight.

So here's your song. It's twisting me.
I'd give anything to make you scream.
And I'll just smile, and make believe I don't feel a thing.
That doesn't work for me.

Oh well, oh well. Guess I'll see you in hell.
There's a pretty little picture that's in my head.
And I'm starting to dream, changing colors while I sleep.
Maybe I'm just wasting time.

Sit still and listen to the soundtrack.
I'll tell you how I took one straight through the heart,
And it's not easy to talk about.
So we all scream loud.

And that was it.
I had made it clean just across the street with my new wings.
So I'll just fly and hope that I remember the good times when it's done.

Oh well, oh well.
I can't live with myself as I'm climbing in your window to get to your bed.
And I'll be what you need,
You can call me anything
Just as long as we're still friends.

Sit still and listen to the soundtrack.
I'll tell you how I took one straight through the heart, and it's not easy to talk about.
So we all sing.

When she smiles it's got nothing to do with me.
I'm not the one who sings her to sleep.
And I've been talking to God asking for just a little help with you but it's hopeless.

It's not the first time but this one really carved it in.
Tell your new friends that they don't know you like I do.
It's over. I wanna see you again. I wanna feel it again.

Oh-oh, it's not the first time, but this one really carved it in.
Tell your new friends that no one knows you like I do.
It's over. I wanna see you again. I wanna feel it again.

I'll keep you warm safe in my arms. 'Till heaven calls, keep holding on.

Precious, right? Well, Lilo didn’t think so and walked off mid-song.

“You sound great, Hun,” My mother came in, grabbed the pitch fork, stabbed some hay, then left to go feed the recently cut gelding we’re boarding.

It’s amazing they don’t even suspect I’m gay. I mean, look at my fucking nails!

At the thought, I lifted my hand daintily and examined my neon work. Perfect.

Oh god, I am gay...

My music stopped and I knew someone must’ve texted me because I get great service in the cow run gone hay barn. I pulled the rectangular, plastic object out from beneath me and saw Ethan was the cause of the sudden quietness.


Pressing the Open button, the boy’s excited text came up.

Ethan: OMFJ JESS!
GUESS WHAT CRAZY SHIZNIT JUST HAPPENED!

OMFJ=Oh my fucking Jinxx, for those not versed in our nonsensical language.

None of us believe in god so we just replace ‘god’ with Jinxx because we like the band (and don’t want to seem hypocritical by saying ‘my god’) and it’s becoming a bit of a fad among the fans That's A Lie. Their army. We’re not exactly obsessed over any one band or thing, but Black Veil Brides are a good band. Heath refuses to seem like a fangirl and instead says ‘OMW’ which means ‘oh my wave’. He’s a surfer, so it makes perfect sense. The water is his religion.

Jess: .... What...?

I answer him. His response makes me literally squeal.

Ethan: SOME PRODUCER GUY GOT OUR DEMO AND SAID WE MAY HAVE WHAT IT TAKES!! WE MIGHT BE ABLE TO GO ON TOUR! NOT TO MENTION BE SIGNED BY A FAMOUS RECORD LABEL!

And, queue squeal.



So, we got to meet up with record producer Josh Abraham. Queue another girly, effeminate squeal.

He helped produce albums for Linkin Park and Atreyu! This is a big fucking deal!

Josh Abraham was one of those really famous looking people with jet black, short, spiky hair. Shaded sun glasses, a single earring in his left ear and, to top it all off, a little, black goatee. But he was really... Not all producer looking... No suit, in fact, he was wearing a casual T-shirt and beige half-pants. He seemed so famous but so normal at the same time, it was strange, but somewhat comforting at the same time.

I stared in blank amazement at him. As did Ethan and Skeeter. Heath was all straight forward and chill. Being a famous news anchor’s son, I guess it came naturally for him.

But we were nowhere near that. Ethan’s mother, Ashley worked with Avon, and his father, Curt was a gray suited business man. My mother was a little known fashion designer named Sarah and my father was a construction worker, Jack. Don’t ask me how that works. Heath doesn’t even know his mother, but we know her name is Bethany. Skeet’s parents are both living off welfare checks, but are both very loving of their children and would lay down their lives for them, Harry and Erica.

There’s a reason why he’s always at our houses though, a trailer isn’t exactly meant to accommodate four rough-housing boys.

“Hi,” The man greeted when we just continued to gawk. Heath rolled his eyes.

“Hello, Heath Franklin, Thomas Franklin, the local news anchor’s eldest son. I am the bass player.” He got right down to business, taking the man’s hand.

“This is our singer, Jesse Ford,” I smiled shyly.

“Our guitarist, Ethan Daniels,” Ethan offered a crooked smile for about two seconds.

“And our drummer, Skeeter.” Heath finished, Skeet had an idiotic smile on his face and he started lightly bouncing with silent laughter. Who knows why. Josh didn’t seemed phased by the moron beside my guitarist.

“Josh Abraham, assuming all of you together make up Pünk Rox?” He smiled like a producer. We nodded, Heath answered ‘yes, sir’.

“Good, would you care to give me an example of some of your songs?” He asked, it was to make sure we could perform live.

“Course,” Heath answered for us and pushed me towards his garage, where all our equipment was. He knew the other two would follow me. Ethan and Skeeter always followed me around, ever since elementary school. There was another guy who followed me, too. He was our first bass player, Quincy. But that’s another story. Something happened to him and Heath eventually replaced him in 11th grade.

“Um...” I wasn’t sure if I wanted to object or not.

We set up anyway, I guess we had to.

“So... Any requests?” I asked Josh.

“How about Skeletons Hiding - if I got the name right.” Course he’d pick the long song... But I don’t blame him, the song is difficult to play but sounds epic, if I may say so myself.

It starts off all slow and quiet and lullaby-like. Then boom, heavy metal. Very descriptive, aren’t I?

Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh
Quiet now, shut your mouth
Don’t leave the house
Watch the shadows dance
Oh, Oh, Oh, Oh
Across the wall
Down the hall
Through the closet into yesterday...

And Ethan, Heath, and Skeet break into the real rock. The guitars roaring like they're finally alive.



As the near six minute song ended, that guitars faded out and Josh began clapping. Fortunately, not noticing my mixing up four or five different verses. What’s sad is that I’m the one that wrote this song. The guys don’t even pay attention to my fuck ups, they just keep playing. Which is for the best, clearly.

“Sooo,” Ethan dragged out, wanting good news.

“If you guys really want to go out on-”

“YES!” Heath and Ethan immediately knew what Josh meant, thus, cutting him off. They high-fived each other. Skeet was clueless as ever and I stood there in ecstatic shock.

The dark haired man smiled, knowing he needn’t say any more. Before hand, he had told us through phone call he would sign us to Lava if we wanted. They were extremely impressed with our demo and were willing to take us. Heath could easily pay whatever costs came and we, of course, said yes.

You know what that means?

We got signed.

And...

WE’RE GOING ON TOUR, BITCHES!