a new home
But on another note, I don't know why I never noticed, because I've been listening to them for a while, since their last album came out, I just never looked at pictures. But the lead singer of The Matches, Shawn Harris, is really hot! Go Google him.
So, on with the story:
A shrill ring echoed through the darkened hotel suite. “I will fucking kill you.” Kyle groaned as a cell phone was silenced across the room. “Who keeps calling you this early?”
“It’s some number in Chicago.” Taylor yawned, looking at the screen. “That’s the fourth time.”
“It’s even earlier there, why are they even awake?”
“Where’s everyone else?” Taylor nodded towards the two empty beds.
“Don’t know.” They both flopped back in their beds, attempting to go back to sleep. Suddenly the door to the suite burst open.
“Guys, what are you doing? Didn’t you answer your phones?” Taylor poked his head out of the covers when his bed started violently shaking. He squinted up to see Izzie jumping on it, a huge grin on her face and an army green dress he hadn’t remembered seeing before.
“I don’t talk to anyone before 10.” He rubbed his eyes, looking up at her.
“Don’t look up my skirt.” She scowled, flying off the bed and running over to Kyle’s.
“I will fucking kill you.” He tried kicking her, but failed miserably as she jumped up on the bed and began bouncing.
“What’s going on? Where were you?” Taylor sat up to see Steve slowly making his way in the room, dragging a mountain of shopping bags.
“Shopping!” Izzie squealed.
“If you guys had answered your phones, or woken up when she started psychotically shrieking, you’d know that they found Mike in Panama.” Steve glared in Izzie’s direction.
“Mr. Wentz got all our money back, plus what he’d been taking from us. Dude…we’re fucking rich.”
“Are you serious?” Kyle suddenly sat up, causing Izzie to lose her balance, bounce off the wall and slide down into the space between the bed and the wall.
“Yeah.” Steve nodded. “So, what do we do now?”
“We go to Disneyland!” Izzie’s feet flailed around as she tried to dislodge herself.
“We have to find someplace to live.” Taylor said.
“Aw, but I like room service.” Steve groaned.
“Yeah, and the housekeeper’s hot.” Kyle smirked.
“They’re not allowed to go out with guests. I saw a movie about it.” Izzie panted, crawling out from under the bed. “And she doesn’t do such a great job under there.”
“Iz’s dad’s only paying for this until our legal issues are over. And now they’re over.” Taylor nodded.
“He’s right. I can’t keep sharing a bathroom with you people. You’re using up all my hair products.” Izzie laughed.
“Awesome, I’m done.” Izzie dropped her spray paint can on the ground, backing away from the trailer. She had spent the past hour, while the band played, painting ‘ARMA ANGELUS’ on both sides of the band’s trailer. She tripped over her shoelace and started to fall backwards.
“Whoa, you ok?” Pete caught her under the arms.
“I’m fine. I think I’m high on paint fumes.” She giggled as the rest of the band started exiting the building, carrying equipment.
“It doesn’t look right on this side.” Joe said, tossing his guitar case in the trailer. All three looked closely at the writing on the trailer.
“Fuck! Arma Angels?!” Izzie groaned, placing her face in her hands.
“Um, Iz…” Pete started laughing.
“What?” She gave him a look. He pointed at her hands, covered in smeared paint. “Ugh, worst night ever. Is it on my face?” She started rubbing with the backs of her hands.
“Let me.” He gently wiped her cheek and above her eyebrow with his hoodie sleeve. “It’s gone.”
“Guys! Quit flirting, we’re ready to go.” Chris yelled, slamming the trailer shut. Pete quickly pulled his hand away from Izzie’s face, jumping into the van.
“We weren’t flirting. That’s gross, it’s Pete.” She climbed in the van, sitting in the back next to Joe, her face bright red.
“Thanks.” Pete scoffed. “I’ll have you know that girls throw themselves at me.”
“I’m just not one of them. Although, I’d love to see some of them. Maybe they could break up this sausage fest.” She smirked.
“No girls in the van!” Chris shouted. “Except Page.”
“I’m going to have to get white paint and fix the trailer when we get to Detroit.” Izzie sighed, leaning her head back and shutting her eyes.
The band grouchily shuffled out the elevator to yet another apartment. It was the sixth building they had looked at that day, and they swore the realtor was completely ignoring everything they had said. Every apartment was totally different, and none of them were remotely what they wanted. “This one is a penthouse unit. It’s just been renovated. It’s priced very fairly, the owners are looking to get rid of it quickly. And it’s fully furnished. I think you’ll be very happy.” The agent bubbled. She was way too perky, with her teased and frosted blonde hair and bubblegum pink suit. Her lipstick was the exact same shade as her outfit. She swung the door open, and everyone filed in, impressed. The decor was ultra contemporary, everything was in shades of black, steel gray and sky blue to match the view of the city visible out the floor to ceiling windows. The apartment was on the corner with the two walls created entirely out of glass, with a large balcony wrapping around the side of the building with another glass railing, creating the illusion that the room opened right out into the sky. There was a large industrial looking kitchen and four separate bedrooms. They wouldn’t have to share anymore. The doors to the bedrooms and the bathrooms were hidden in another wall covered in mirrors, reflecting the living space and making it look even bigger. The fourth wall, where the front door was, was painted black.
“Wow.” Was all Kyle could say as they walked around, exploring the space.
“Why didn’t anyone tell me I looked like military Barbie?” Izzie scrunched her face, catching her reflection in the mirrors and scowling at her olive green baby doll dress, army style hat and hot pink converse.
“Dude, there’s a pool table!” Steve grinned, turning the corner into a small game room tucked behind the kitchen.
“Dude, there’s a pool!” Taylor shouted from the balcony. Everyone rushed out. At the far end of the balcony there was a small swimming pool. It was only about six feet across and ten feet long, but it was still a pool.
“Isn’t it beautiful? I think you’d feel very comfortable in this building, there’s another musician that lives on the floor.” The realtor gushed.
“Who?” Izzie questioned. Leaning against the small glass wall separating their balcony from their neighbors.
“I can’t say. For privacy reasons.” She shook her head. Izzie squealed as her hat was suddenly plucked from her head. She spun around when the guys started cracking up.
“Holy, shit. You’re the musician that lives on the floor?” Izzie smacked Gabe in the stomach, taking her hat back.
“Unless there’s someone else no one told me about.” He shrugged.
“We’ll take it.” Kyle nodded to the realtor.
“I get first dibs on rooms!” Steve shouted.
“Hell you do!” Izzie shoved him in the pool, bounding off to pick the best room.
Everyone piled out of the van at a gas station to grab some food and switch drivers. Izzie pulled her cell phone out of her back pocket, noticing that she had a new text message. She opened it and instantly pursed her lips, glaring at the screen. “Crap.” She threw it at the curb.
“Hey, you’re going to break your phone.” Chris picked it up, handing it back.
“Thanks.” She snapped, shoving it in her pocket.
“What’s wrong?” Pete walked over, shoving Oreos in his mouth.
“My prom date dumped me. He said he figured I’d be gone with you guys, and he’s going to take Tracy Rodriguez.” She humphed.
“She’s hot.” Joe grinned.
“She’s a slut!” She punched his arm.
“I didn’t even know you wanted to go. It doesn’t really seem like your scene.” Chris shrugged.
“Of course I want to go! It’s the prom.”
“Do you already have a dress?”
“Yes. And the prom’s next week, I’ll never find someone in time.” She leaned against the side of the van.
“Joe!” Pete yelled.
“What?” Joe shouted, wiping Cheeto dust on his jeans.
“Are you going to the prom?”
“No.” he scoffed.
“You are now.”
“He doesn’t have to.” Izzie mumbled.
“You’re taking her to the prom, or you’re out of the band.” Pete scowled.
“I’ll pick you up at 7.” He sighed.
The band had been moved into their new apartment for two weeks. The guys had discovered a new game in throwing stuff off the balcony and letting it drop 43 floors to the alley behind the building and racing down to see how big the explosion was. It was modified from their original game of throwing stuff off the balcony and making Steve catch it. They hadn’t anticipated how fast the objects would be moving, and how sharp broken eggshells were. He now had 7 stitches in his hand. “Nothing sharp and nothing expensive.” Izzie reminded as she passed them digging through the kitchen for more supplies. She draped her towel over the lounge chair next to the pool and laid down to spend her last afternoon of their break relaxing before they had to start planning and shooting their new music video.
“Hey, what’s on?” She cracked her eye open to see Gabe leaning on his balcony railing finishing a cigarette.
“Oh, just sitting by my pool, you know? Oh, right…you don’t have one.” She grinned smugly.
“Yeah. We’ve been through this.” He laughed, tossing his cigarette butt off the ledge. “Your place looks like it came out of a designer magazine. Mine looks like it came from Ikea.”
“Or a dumpster.”
“It’s not that bad.” He shook his head.
“MILK CARTON!” Three voices shouted in unison as they barreled onto the balcony and a large white object plummeted out of sight.
“Aw, sweet!” Taylor cackled.
“Let’s go check it out!” Kyle yelled and they disappeared.
“One of these days they’re going to get arrested.” Gabe laughed, glancing down at the destruction in the alley.
“Why do you think I stay up here? They can’t prove any involvement.”
“Are you involved?”
“Who do you think threw the egg at Steve?” Izzie chuckled.
“Hey, I should warn you.” Gabe leaned in, whispering. “Pete’s here.”
“Like, here in New York or…”
“Here at my apartment. He’s staying with me for a couple days.”
“He’s over there right now?” she craned her neck to see in the door.
“He’s out right now. He’s working on some stuff. I just wanted to let you know.” He shrugged and headed inside.
Izzie shifted in her seat, trying to get comfortable. She was riding shotgun, and it wasn’t the most comfortable in the middle of the night when you were trying to sleep. She put her feet up on the dashboard, but quickly put them down, sitting up. Everyone in the back was snoring away, she sighed to herself and looked over at the red headed kid driving. “Andy, right?” He glanced over quickly before returning his eyes to the road. “Do you talk?”
“Yeah I talk.” He smirked.
“Why don’t you ever talk to me?”
“You don’t talk to me either.”
“Frankly, I’m a little afraid of you. You could probably kill me with your bare hands.” They both laughed.
“So, you’re vegan AND straight edge.” Izzie raised her eyebrows. “Is there anything you DO do?”
“Sure.” He shrugged.
“So, vegans don’t use ANYTHING made from animals.”
“From or by.”
“What if…you ate the grass where an animal lived. It’s not made by the animals, but it’s associated with them.”
“Why would I eat grass?” he wrinkled his eyebrows.
“It’s not necessarily about the animals themselves, it’s about the treatment and conditions that the animals are kept in.”
“But if you ate the grass, they’d be homeless. And hungry.”
“But they could find more grass to live in.”
“Ok then, grass IS vegan.” She nodded.
The guys had decided it was time to quit for today when the building security guard started snooping around in the alley, and had all gone inside to play video games. Izzie was considering heading in as well, it was hot and she was getting bored. “You might want some sun block. You’re starting to burn.” A voice snapped her out of her daydreams.
“Hello Pete.” She sighed without opening her eyes. She’d recognize that voice anywhere. She stood up and began gathering her things.
“You don’t have to go. I’ll leave.” He blurted quickly.
“No, it’s ok. I was done anyway.” She glanced up at him at last. He had dark circles under his eyes and looked exhausted. She turned to leave, feeing somewhat guilty that it was her fault.
“Wait…” He called. She stopped in the doorway, but her eyes remained on the ground. “I’m not going to beg or explain, or tell you I love you. Which I do. Just want you to answer a question. It’s been eating away at me. I haven’t slept in weeks.” He stuttered. “It’s really hard to talk to you when you’re wearing that.” He sighed. She glanced down at her hot pink and turquoise leopard print bikini. She had to admit it was rather skimpy. She finally raised her eyes to meet his and he continued. “What was strike one?” She grinned slightly to herself at the absurdity of her next comment.
“You didn’t notice I dyed my hair blonde.”
“Yes I did. I just didn’t say anything…you normally get weird about that kind of stuff.” He pouted.
“It’s not just that. You’re selfish, self-centered and have an ego the size of a mack truck. And I’m selfish, self-centered and I have an ego the size of a mack truck.”
“I can change.”
“I don’t WANT you to change. I just need time. I have to fix me before I can get close to you.”
“I’ll wait. Take all the time you need. Weeks, months…years! I’ll wait for you.” He stepped up to the railing, as close as he could get to her with a pained look on his face.
“I have to go.” She rushed into the apartment, shutting the door.
Sorry it's kind of short. I'll try to have the next chapter up in the next couple days. There's only 2, maybe 3, chapters left. I've already got an idea for my next story. I think it's going to be a Cobra Starship one this time.