Sequel: Earth to Me

Generation Why Bother

Om-Nom-Ominous

“Hey guys, we’ve got an announcement that a lot of you probably aren’t going to like. Let me just preface this by saying that it’s completely temporary and things will be back to normal very soon, but as of right now what we’re doing is necessary. The point is, we won’t be doing any more shows or touring until further notice. No acoustic shows or gigs with the rest of Not Listening, nothing radio-related (except for a station we’re playing with today), no tours. This shouldn’t take more than a few months for us to get back to normal. All of us are just feeling pretty loaded-down, not just as a band, but individually. We see big things for our futures as people and as Put’emup, Put’emup, and by February-ish, those big things should start back up again. We’ve still yet to see Europe! So just know that this isn’t a hiatus – I know half the Internet is still up in arms over Johnny Cool’s hiatus and we don’t need any more digital riots – and we’re still very much a band who is going to be active and writing things. We just need to take a little time off from the spotlight. We’ll keep you posted. We love every single one of you even if you hate us, and we hope you have a wonderful day!

- PUT’EMUP, PUT’EMUP”

Mick read the Facenook post out loud to all of us as we gathered in the living room of the band’s apartment a few days later after school. With all eight guardians present, it seemed like a great time to do it. We all knew how much the band had to deal with in terms of being practically superheroes, and all of the shows they had lined up in the next month would have just gotten so far in the way of it all. Thus, they came to the mutual decision to hide from the spotlight at least for a little while under the guise of “gathering their senses.”

They made it pretty obvious to us that they were just doing it so that they could train, though. However, if they announced the whole truth to the world, they’d get laughed out of the music business and locked into the loony bin.

Andy had already told us it was hard enough to explain to Plaster Caster and their record label that nothing supernatural had happened at that show when Tegan sent the amps in another direction. Rai had apparently been suspicious and pinned it all on Put’emup, Put’emup because they were the ones that brought us along as “winners” of some sort of contest they were holding (that was never actually held). Andy had stuck to his guns and dispelled any rumors of any funny business, but even if he gave in, it’s not like anybody would’ve believed him. That’s why we all agreed to silence with this whole thing, including our family members that knew.

Staying out of the spotlight for a while was a good move. Whenever they came back from a show, they were exhausted and seemed burnt out. They had bigger fish to fry – we all did.

Like it was stated in the announcement, the band did have one last hurrah, and it was an acoustic show for a local radio station that day. They headed out with their guitars and maracas (well, on Mick’s part) and left Tegan, Chuck, Riley and I in charge of the apartment for the day. They just told us not to leave it a mess and that they’d be back by night, and so we pretty much had free reign.

What better way to utilize that free reign than by sitting around and doing nothing?

No, but seriously. I was working on art for school and so was Tegan, Chuck was reading and Riley was listening to music and laying on the couch. Not a lot of productive things were going on. We weren’t even talking for a good chunk of time, and then Chuck put an end to that peace when he asked something that was just a little bit scary but pretty unrealistic.

“They’re not gonna break up, are they? I was just starting to get into their music.”

Tegan looked up from the suit design she was sketching. “I doubt they’d break up. A ton of bands go through this sort of thing all the time and they never even have to save the world, so that’s just another thing on their plate.” She erased something and continued drawing as she added, “They’ve come too far as a group to give up over this.”

“I’ll tell you one thing, if you told me a year ago I’d be teaming up with Put’emup, Put’emup to defend the world, I wouldn’t believe it,” I had to say. I had to get it off my chest somehow. “They don’t even feel like celebrities anymore.” Okay, that was a lie. I was still scared to talk to any of them one-on-one, especially Andy.

Chuck put down his book and sat up on the couch. “See, I’d heard of them before, but that was only because they’re label mates with one of my favorite bands, The Max.”

“It’s weird, though,” Riley interjected, pulling out one earbud, “that I haven’t really heard them talk about anything other than the universe and guardians thing.”

“They probably talk about band stuff when they’re out doing band stuff,” Tegan hypothesized. “Or they’re doing it behind closed doors where you two just don’t hear about it.”

Riley yawned and rubbed his eyes, saying, “All they do around us is play their instruments, make bad puns – well, that’s just Mick and Andy – and eat.”

“Mick was texting me the other night and he said that Andy’s been planning to pitch a cartoon idea to a few networks,” Tegan told us, putting down her pencil and pulling out her phone. “And apparently he’s been killing himself over it so Anthony told him to hold off on it until this all blows over.”

Chuck and Riley looked at each other in confusion.

“When the fuck did that happen? I didn’t hear them talk about that,” Riley said.

“Must’ve been on the way to a show or something,” Chuck threw out.

Yeah, because I needed another reason to look up to Andy almost as much as Anchor and make me scared to talk to him. (That was sarcasm.) “Yeah, that sounds like something Andy would do. Try to overachieve in the middle of a storm,” I laughed.

“Didn’t he draw both their album covers?” Riley asked. He probably already knew it and just wanted to make the conversation not die.

Chuck looked taken aback. “Dang, if he did, he’s got some wicked talent.”

Tegan flailed and gushed, “Oh my God, you should see this picture of Johnny Cool he drew for me and Oshie. It’s dead-on!”

They looked at each other and started smiling knowingly at each other like we just unlocked another level of friendship.

“Man, me and Chucky here used to read those comics all the time back in Gainesville,” Riley snorted. “Sucks that it’s dead right now, though. It’d be cool to kinda synchronize our situation with Johnny’s.”

Tegan and I exchanged a smirk and she said, “Anthony told us not to do that.”

“Yeah, well, Anthony needs to get off his high horse.” Riley tipped his head back.

“I think that whatever helps us get through this is worth it, no matter what it is,” Chuck tentatively said, looking uncertain at first but getting more confident as he said it.

All of us nodded in agreement, understanding his words better than anything Anthony told us. It doesn’t matter what you find solace in. If it helps, it helps. In our position as teenagers, there wasn’t much else we could hope to do. Our heroes were trying to find their places in the world just like us. My dad was still fumbling with social interactions and of course I inherited that trait, and Andy was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders under his own jurisdiction. Just once I liked having something to hold on to that wasn’t rooted in reality.

It showed me that there was still an amount of fantasy left in life, and it made my daydreams so much better. I wanted to create worlds of my own when I was younger, making my own people and my own stories, and realizing that Johnny was out there taking control of his own story had helped me carry that dream through my teenage years. I mean…if we were guardians of the planet chosen to protect the earth against vicious aliens…the possibilities were endless, right? I could be Johnny. As long as there was supernatural danger lurking, there was always a supernatural solution, and it happened to be all eight of us.
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I hope all of you had an awesome day - Happy Holidays! I ate too much and now I don't know whether I want to sleep or puke.