FicWad

Bree had never before been asked for ID upon entering a club in Newark before. Perhaps this was a testament to how scummy New Jersey really was, but Bree just considered it handy. She and Carrie had not yet needed a fake ID once, and for that they were grateful. They were expensive for one, and unreliable. Luckily, the bouncers of Jersey were reliable, and were guaranteed to let girls in provided they looked good. After smiling overly flirtatiously at the bouncer, Bree found herself guiding Carrie inside alongside Jackson, who immediately disappeared into the crowd of the already packed club to find his friends. Bree shook her head in a frustrated manner as she dragged Carrie over to the bar, and sat her on a stool. ‘Where’d your brother go?’ Carrie slurred in what Bree could only guess was a disappointed tone.
‘I’m not sure,’ Bree replied as she looked around, trying to identify Jackson in the crowd.

After several minutes of crowd scanning, it was evident Bree would not be able to find Jackson by standing in one spot, so she turned to Carrie. ‘Okay. I need you to stay here. I am begging you Carrie,’ she said sternly. ‘I’m gonna bring Jackson back here.’ Carrie giggled, but nodded when Bree glared at her. She moved quickly and efficiently through the crowd. Being as small as she was, it was easy for her to navigate her way between spaces where other people could not fit and she was doing well until suddenly, a tearing pain burst through her nose and she was jerked back. Her nose ring had gotten hooked on a boy’s hoodie. ‘Fuck!’ She screamed in pain, her eyes watering.
‘Shit,’ the boy said. ‘Hold on.’ She felt the boy fiddling with his zipper somewhere near her nostril.
‘Can you not get so close to fondling my nose?’ She asked rudely.
‘Just trying to fuckin’ help,’ the guy muttered. ‘I don’t really wanna be attached to you for the rest of my life.’
‘Oh, well likewise,’ Bree replied angrily. Finally, he unhooked her from the zip and she wiped the tears from her eyes.

Bree looked up at him after the blur caused by the tears disappeared. He was tall and lanky, a pair of glasses perched on his nose. His light brown hair poked out slightly from underneath a beanie. He wore a plain black hoodie over black Journey t shirt and dark blue jeans. He sported a singular sweat band on his right wrist. Bree stopped inspecting his appearance to return to being rude to him.
‘You should watch where you’re walking,’ she said loudly.
‘You should watch where YOU’RE walking,’ he replied smoothly. ‘I can barely SEE you from up here!’
‘Fuck you!’ She spat. Her eyes moved to his t shirt. ‘Journey?’ She sneered. ‘Nice taste in music, does it come in hetero?’
‘Hey!’ He exclaimed defensively. ‘Do NOT insult Journey.’ The two stood, fuming, staring at each other. ‘Well,’ the boy said. ‘I’d love to hang around seeing as you’re so pleasant, but unfortunately I have someplace to be.’ His voice dripped with sarcasm. ‘Next time you walk around a club, do let me know so I can dress more appropriately for YOUR needs.’ And with that, the mystery boy stormed off.

Bree commenced her venture to find Jackson. She found him near the front of the crowd, holding a beer and leaning against a speaker, talking to a petite black haired girl. Bree stormed up to the pair, her eyes shooting daggers, while her nose stung. She turned to look at the girl, who looked slightly alarmed. ‘Scram!’ Bree said loudly. The girl made a yelping noise and scampered away.
‘Scram? Really?’ Jackson chuckled. ‘What’s up that ass of yours?’
‘This night is already painful, do not force me to pass the pain onto you.’
Jackson laughed loudly. ‘What are you going to do? Punch me with those tiny fists?’ He grabbed hold of her hands and held them up in front of his eyes. ‘Not such a big threat, sis.’ He winked at her.
‘Ugh, shut up.’
‘Where’s your friend?’ Jackson asked curiously. Bree turned to the spot where she had left Carrie and groaned.
‘Awesome. I have no idea.’
‘So you lost her?’ Jackson laughed.
‘Stop laughing! Yes! I lost her!’ Bree’s frustration was mounting. ‘And on top of that, my nose ring got caught on some asshole’s zipper and nearly ripped my fucking nose off! I nearly punched him!’
‘Yeah, you have to stop talking about punching people, it’s really not an intimidating threat.’

Suddenly, the lights went down. ‘Now shut up, they’re coming on,’ Jackson said.
‘These are the guys you know?’ Bree enquired.
Jackson nodded in reply. ‘My Chemical Romance. The bassist, Mikey, just started working with me at Barnes and Noble. I went to their practice the other day, they’re pretty good.’
‘Cool.’ But it was no longer “cool” when the lights came up. Bree frowned. ‘That’s the asshole!’ She openly pointed at the familiar lanky figure on the stage, making his way towards the bass guitar. Bree ran her fingers through her hair. ‘Wait... That’s not your friend, is it?’
Jackson bit his lip, trying to conceal a grin. ‘Uh. Yeah.’ Bree glared at him, then turned back to face the band.

Bree stood through the half hour set, and was angry to admit that she actually enjoyed it. The band’s music was fast and aggressive, and the performance had so much energy she was not sure where to look; there was so much going on onstage. She watched the bassist intently. He seemed much less easy to loathe while he was playing; despite his awkward demeanor, as though he was slightly embarrassed to be in front of a crowd and didn’t know what to do with himself, it was clear he was passionate about what he was doing. Bree’s eyes scanned across the other band members. Directly in front of her, a short boy with black hair was writhing on the stage, playing his guitar with so much energy she though SHE may pass out from the exhaustion of simply watching him. ‘Frankie’s got a lot of energy, eh?’ Jackson chuckled in her ear; he too was watching the small guitarist play his heart out. Mikey stood about a metre behind him, and behind Mikey was the drummer. He had dirty blonde hair and expression of utter concentration on his face. Her eyes moved across to the opposite side of the stage, where a boy with hair so curly and puffy it bounced with each headbang was ripping out a solo. She admired his abilities. He definitely had talent. His guitar skills were much more accomplished than her own. Finally, her eyes came to rest on the lead singer, who had just jumped off the stage and approached the barrier behind which the audience stood, grinning though he was singing as he was pulled towards the crowd by multiple pairs of hands. He gave off a special sort of energy Bree could not quite place; all she knew is that watching him perform made her smile.

Upon the end of the band’s set, Bree watched as Mikey picked up his water bottle and went to move off the stage. Seeing her in the crowd, he stopped to stare at her momentarily. At least, Bree was sure he had stopped, but the moment had ended so abruptly she was unsure of whether it had really happened. She turned to Jackson. ‘I better go see if I can find Carrie.’ Bree made her way through the crowd to the bar. She searched all around the general venue space, checked the toilets, and quickly looked out the front of the club to ensure she hadn’t just left after the band had finished. She was nowhere to be found. There was only one place left to check: backstage. Bree wandered to the side of the stage. A bouncer stood guarding the entrance to the backstage area. Bree knew that even though the bouncer was there, if Carrie had wanted to go backstage, she would have found a way. Thus, Bree persevered to do so as well.

After five minutes of pacing in front of the entrance, the bouncer eyed Bree suspiciously. ‘Can I help you miss?’ He asked.
It was like a light bulb flashed in her head. ‘Uh, yeah, actually. I’m waiting for my boyfriend. He’s in the band that just played. Do you mind if I go back there and see him? I have to tell him our lift is leaving really soon.’
‘I could just go back there and tell him for you.’ The bouncer’s eyes narrowed. ‘Who is he?’
Bree panicked as she looked at the bouncer, as the small guitarist who she had watched to the point of exhaustion walked behind him. ‘He is!’ She said, pointing at him.
The bouncer looked back at him and smirked. ‘Him?’
‘Yeah. Um. Frankie!’ She called to him nervously, praying he’d play along. The guitarist turned to look at Bree, squinting in an attempt to recognise her. She quickly took advantage of the bouncer turning to look at Frank, and pushed past him to run to Frank.

‘Hi,’ she said in a low voice that the bouncer could not hear as she stopped in front of Frank. ‘You don’t know me, but you know my brother and I need you to pretend to be my boyfriend for a second so I can find my friend.’ Just looking at Frank’s astonished face, Bree knew he could not possibly play along. She must look like a psychopath. He was probably wondering how she even knew his name. Suddenly, Bree’s face became astonished when the boy kissed her on the cheek and put his arm around her.
‘What took you so long to get back here, baby?’ He asked as he guided her backstage, winking at her somehow in the process. And together they walked through the door, leaving the bouncer and his dumfounded expression behind.

As they walked further down the hallway, Frank retracted his arm from around her shoulder and stopped to look at her curiously. ‘Thanks for doing that,’ she said, relief tainting her tone.
‘I only did it so I could find out who the hell you are and what the hell you were trying to explain to me just then.’ He grinned.
She returned his friendly smile. ‘Uh, well, I’m Bree, I’m 17, I like sandwiches, and I’m looking for my friend Carrie, and I wouldn’t put it past her to be here.’
‘Well I’m Frank, I’m 19, I got an ear infection once and I think I know where your friend is,’ Frank said.
‘Really?’ Bree asked excitedly.
‘Yeah. You’re Jackson’s little sister, right? You said I knew your brother.’
‘Yes!’
‘Well,’ Frank said, putting a hand on her shoulder. ‘In that case, both your brother and friend are this way.’ He put his arm back around her as she took her to a room down the far end of the corridor. Bree had a feeling she was going to like Frank. He was friendly and seemed to have a mischievous side, if his constant grinning was anything to go by.

Frank led her through the door and gestured towards Carrie, who was lying on the floor on the other side of the room, a glass of water next to her, and a hoodie under head. Evidently, someone had tried to make her comfortable. Bree rushed across to her, ignoring the curious onlookers that included My Chemical Romance and her brother. She stroked her friends hair and spoke to her quietly. ‘Are you okay?’
Carrie lifted her head to smile at her. ‘I threw up in his guitar case,’ she slurred, pointing to Mikey’s bass guitar case and grinning. Mikey was hunched over it, wiping it out using a cloth and bucket of water, a disgusted look on his face. ‘Is this the sister?’ A voice asked from behind Bree. She turned to see the band’s lead singer watching her.
‘Yes, it is.’ Jackson moved to stand beside Bree and put a hand on her shoulder. Mikey turned and stared at her, his eyes wide. ‘But we’ll do introductions next time boys, gotta get this one home.’ He gestured to Carrie. ‘Plus, Mikey and I have to work in the morning.’

The boys all exchanged goodbyes and Bree nodded politely to each one of them. She helped Carrie to stand up and left the room behind Jackson. She stopped when she realised that Mikey was following them. ‘What’s he doing?’ She asked rudely.
Jackson rolled his eyes as he turned to look at his little sister. ‘Bree, Mikey. Mikey, Bree. Mikey’s staying at our place because they’re having a party at his and he needs to work in the morning. Okay, cool.’ He said impatiently. Bree fumed as she watched Mikey’s smug face. He pushed past her and walked ahead with Jackson, the two of them discussing something animatedly. Meanwhile, Bree struggled behind them to hold up Carrie, wondering how the night could have been any worse.

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Chapter 2, for your enjoyment. Re-read, read for the first time, I hope you still like it.
Let me know what you think if it tickles your fancy ;)