‹ Prequel: Snapped Guitar Strings and Broken Hearts
Stitched Back Together
Chapter One
“ So come and dance with me, Craig—” Robby sang, spinning with Craig in a circle.
“ Wait. Wait. Wait. I thought it was Michael.” Aiden interrupted, giggling. Skittles.
“ Yes, it is but I don’t want to dance with some fuckhole named Michael. I mean come ON. What kind of name is that? Craig is probably sexier than any Michael there is anyways.”
I laughed, shaking my head and continued to strum out the rhythm chords to Free Bird on my acoustic guitar. The same seven chords, over and over again. Sometimes it made me wonder how such simple chords could be so beautiful and how all of those bands came up with such brilliance.
I stood up and set the guitar by the other five in the room, leaning against a counter in the basement.
It’s been two years since my downfall. Which ended with an enormous jump upwards. We’ve all graduated. I’m proud of my improved grades.
Aiden attends a local community college and Robby is trying to earn a minor in accounting over the computer. Just for the heck of it. And we all live in the two-story house on Cherry Lane. The basement is used for the band. And then upstairs we all can do whatever the fuck we want.
We’ve completed our sophomore album, selling more than the first had sold. Its fun, touring with your friends, doing what you love. But it’s hard. We’ve been playing small gigs near our town once a week, trying to make ends meat. At the end of the day, though, it’s worth it.
I want to go to college, but we’ve already made quite a bit of money and I don’t need college to work for my second job, apart from music. Which would be in Hot Topic, up at the mall where we still trash Abercrombie and Hollister. Its still the same fun, even though we’re all eighteen and nineteen now.
I felt something tap my shoulder and looked up. It was Jake, who was smiling.
We’d gotten back together about six months ago. I wanted to be good friends again before doing anything and he said fine. So here we are. Living the dream life. With the ones who we love, doing what we love and living off of it.
“ Dinner’s ready.”
I just noticed that nobody besides us two were in the room. I smiled at him and got off the ratty couch, careful to avoid walking into the guitars.
“ What is it today?”
“ Mexican stuff. I drove up to Taco Bell.” He laughed. “ I didn’t feel like cooking anything tonight. I hope they don’t mind.”
“ Oh, you know them. They love tacos. They’ll be fine.”
“ Wait. Wait. Wait. I thought it was Michael.” Aiden interrupted, giggling. Skittles.
“ Yes, it is but I don’t want to dance with some fuckhole named Michael. I mean come ON. What kind of name is that? Craig is probably sexier than any Michael there is anyways.”
I laughed, shaking my head and continued to strum out the rhythm chords to Free Bird on my acoustic guitar. The same seven chords, over and over again. Sometimes it made me wonder how such simple chords could be so beautiful and how all of those bands came up with such brilliance.
I stood up and set the guitar by the other five in the room, leaning against a counter in the basement.
It’s been two years since my downfall. Which ended with an enormous jump upwards. We’ve all graduated. I’m proud of my improved grades.
Aiden attends a local community college and Robby is trying to earn a minor in accounting over the computer. Just for the heck of it. And we all live in the two-story house on Cherry Lane. The basement is used for the band. And then upstairs we all can do whatever the fuck we want.
We’ve completed our sophomore album, selling more than the first had sold. Its fun, touring with your friends, doing what you love. But it’s hard. We’ve been playing small gigs near our town once a week, trying to make ends meat. At the end of the day, though, it’s worth it.
I want to go to college, but we’ve already made quite a bit of money and I don’t need college to work for my second job, apart from music. Which would be in Hot Topic, up at the mall where we still trash Abercrombie and Hollister. Its still the same fun, even though we’re all eighteen and nineteen now.
I felt something tap my shoulder and looked up. It was Jake, who was smiling.
We’d gotten back together about six months ago. I wanted to be good friends again before doing anything and he said fine. So here we are. Living the dream life. With the ones who we love, doing what we love and living off of it.
“ Dinner’s ready.”
I just noticed that nobody besides us two were in the room. I smiled at him and got off the ratty couch, careful to avoid walking into the guitars.
“ What is it today?”
“ Mexican stuff. I drove up to Taco Bell.” He laughed. “ I didn’t feel like cooking anything tonight. I hope they don’t mind.”
“ Oh, you know them. They love tacos. They’ll be fine.”