Categories > Celebrities > My Chemical Romance > Perfect
Chapter 007
4 reviewsPhysically leaving everything behind is one thing Andie has surely done. But emotionally, she can't move on, not yet.
1Original
Thanks to everyone who's been reading and I'm sooooo sorry that I'm slow, but hey, there's been some great new albums taking up my time lately. Huggles from hell to these oh-so-lovely reviewers; Hottgrl89, GreenDayCrazy, gcmestsp, letter_bomb, romanticchick, luckystars4XO, XrayPineapple, p_xox_p, FaithSlayer, Black Orchid, ColdHardBitch, LovelyxMistake, Ashley, and my sweet muse, Andie Francis. Some things you absolutely have to know are that things are going to be changing a lot in this fic and we now have a whole new five-piece band and they will be present until the very end. Think of it as the opening band when you go to a concert but they got in a bit late. Now, without further ado... Perfect
Chapter 007
[Play]
"...We hope you have enjoyed your flight with Delta Blue. Please choose us again next time." My eyes flickered opened to see the small number of my fellow red-eye passengers already converging at the exit. I shuffled to my feet and was among the last to the leave the plane. Being that everyone who rushed to leave the plane had already met up and left with their greeting party, it was easy for my to locate a particular senior citizen.
"Hey Gramps." I yawned as we hugged briefly.
His eyes crinkled and sparkled as he grinned back at me and helped me with my bags. "Hey yourself, kiddo. How was the flight?"
"Slept through most of it." I replied as he trudged out of the airport. "How're you?"
"Still breathing," he chuckled. "How's your dad? You two getting along alright?"
I smiled at his concern. Grampa Tommy was the one knew how deep my problems ran with dad, especially right after mom died. When I had not wanted anything to do with moving to New Jersey and had insisted on staying in Seattle with him instead, he was the voice of reason who gently coaxed me into getting on the plane.
"Things are better, not the same since mom died, but definitely better."
Grampa only knew that I was out here for a journalism program at the university as my father's pride had kept grampa from knowing the truth. (Dad didn't want to give justification to the infamous claim of grampa's that he was just a bad person who took this old man's only daughter away.)
[Fast-Forward]
On the car ride to my new home with grampa, we talked a little bit about this and that just to make sure that we were both still well updated on each other's lives.
[Play]
"So, Andie" his congenial voice filling his relatively new Volvo, "I'll be damned if my only grandchild, the one who has all her family charm, " at this, he smile cheekily, referring to my matriarchal side of the family, namely himself, "hasn't had a nice boyfriend or two since I last saw her."
That's another thing grampa doesn't know and, hopefully, will never find out about. "Well, then, you're saved. I have had a nice boyfriend or two as a matter-in-fact." I answered in a quasi-lie.
"Good. Did you leave behind a trail of broken hearts in New Jersey?"
"You know me, gramps, all this charms could amount to nothing less of that!" We laughed at our humor while I felt a horrible tug at my heart just brushing against the mere mention of anything to do with Mikey. I pulled a good cover by bringing grampa's love life into the lime light. "What about you? Got the old birds at Bingo Nights hanging off your arm like always?" (Like myself, my mom grew up without a mother since Grampa Tommy's then-wife had run off with someone when my mom was only a few years old. I guess that might be one of the reasons that she stuck it out with dad; she didn't want to be a coward like her own mother.)
A sly smirk crept along his feature as we pulled into the driveway. "You know me too well. But they can't resist this ancient Casanova." Chortling we headed into the quaint house that I had been to only a few times. Nothing was different, realy, same old 80's design, high ceilings, wooded house frame and the faint smell of scotch.
He directed me to mom's old room in which he kept all of her accomplishments. "If it's still too much, you can take the guest." Grampa stated apprehensively as he watched me take in the room as a whole.
"No... this is fine. Thank you." This felt like the place I needed to be right now, in the arms of my mother. Grampa nodded with a faint smile. "I think I'll just recharge my batteries then do something with the rest of my day."
"Sounds like a plan. Just holler if you need anything." With one last smile he shut the door behind himself.
I looked about, never having spent much time in this particular part of the house. I noticed some beautiful tiara's and scepters and various awards that indicating my mom's popularity at school and her intelligence, respectively. but a sudden yawn overtook me and I soon found myself snuggling under the frilly white duvet and deeply into sleep.
[Fast-Forward]
I awoke, around two in the afternoon (six in the evening in Jersey time), to the sound of classical piano playing softly through the house. Unable to take the trepidation, I decided to call Jamia.
[Play]
"...How'd Frankie take it?"
A sigh came through the line from Jamia. "We were supposed to be alone when I told him this morning after he came in from work. But right after I explained the whole 'sitch to him, in comes Mikey, looking for with a heavy hang over and..." her voice drifted off, letting me know that the rest wasn't ver pleasant.
"They had a fight didn't they?" A pause and I knew what that meant. "Jamia, I told you to not let them get at each other because of me!"
"Boys will be boys. But don't sweat, I managed to get him off Mikey before Frankie could do anything horrible."
"How bad did it get?"
"Picture this, it's been about twelve hours and Mikey's face is still swollen and Frankie's got a bruise that gone past purple to jaundice yellow."
"Oh that's nasty." I groaned just picturing my best guy friend and my ex duking it out in the middle of out apartment.
"Tell me about it. It was kinda disgusting but that cut on Frank's eyebrow makes him look quite dashing." Jamia piped up, trying to lighten the mood.
"Nice to know where your thoughts are heading." I said bluntly, a smirk following in its wake. "So I take it they aren't talking right now?"
"Nope. Once Mikey was in the loop about the whole thing, they got into a massive shouting match in the living room. Frank blamed your leaving solely on Mikey and completely threw out the family part of the reason saying you'd never listen to your dad. Then Mikes had a fit over how it was neither of our businesses what had happened between you two. I told him that it was very much my business since all I had to do was say the word and your dad would have him murdered in his bed. Ohhhh if your dad ever found out, he'd be out like a light, I'm telling you." Jamia finished with a huff. Clearly her anger with Mikey had yet to dissipate. "He wants to talk to you." She said suddenly, getting my hopes up. "Frankie wants to make sure you're okay."
"Oh." I replied somewhat disappointed. "You can put him on." I heard a muffled exchanging of words, then Frank's voice came flowing across the line.
"Can I please fuck him up for real just this once?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth.
"Frankie! No, he's your friend!" I immediately quashed the notion.
"But I feel like I should do something about this! And he's not my friend right now, that goddamn...." a string of curses ensued so vile I had to stop him.
"Frank, listen to me. We both know it was my mistake for letting Mikey treat me the way he did." I tried to assure him and spent the better part of the next half hour trying to do so. I also tried to convince him that my move would have been inevitable for I'd never put my friends in danger if I could help it.
"How long will it be like this?" he quarried, a question I knew he'd been dying to know the answer to.
"I honestly don't know Frank," I sighed. "A few months, a few years...? All I know is that I can't go over there and you guys can't visit me because people could be watching you guys now. But I'll be back on the next plane to Jersey when my dad lifts his ban."
"Since when did you listen to him? Or calling him 'dad' for that matter?" asked Frankie, surprised at my diction.
"Since I realized how one-of-a-kind my dad is."
After we hung up it was known to both parties, plainly and clearly, that Mikey and I would have zero contact to make the moving on part easier. Things were better off this way. But I'm going to hold on to one thing, one promise; that this chapter of my life would only fully be finished when (for I have a feeling it's going to be inevitable) I saw Mikey again, alive, well, and happy. Why? Because that's true love. No matter what happens, if we end up getting back together or not, I just want to see him in his old self. It's cheesy, yes, but that's what love is; being happy only when the one you love is happy.
I gave a stretch and a deep yawn before sliding on some comfy sweats and a thick grey sweatshirt over my shirt, not knowing if I was going out or not. I opened the door out to the hall only to realize the piano playing had not ceased at all and was now playing a slow, melancholy piece. Assuming it was one of those classical piano CD's that gramps loved to put on, I clopped downstairs only to be greeted by a mild surprise.
A young girl, easily younger than myself, sat at the piano, back erect, fingers angelically playing out the mournful melody. I paused at the very last step of the stair, peeking into the livingroom which both my grandfather and the piano player were occupying, to watch and listen. The tune sounded like something that could be played during the death scene of two star-crossed lovers like Romeo and Juliet. I began to see the gothic nature in which both the music and the girl came together as she was quite dressed the part. She wore a Gothic Lolita dress shirt with a black waist clincher with a plain pencil skirt that closed up it short slit with a white ribboned corset. Her legs were covered in opaque tights while her shoes, a pair of round-toed lace-up black ballet flats, laid next to the piano. The trance that I was under due to her soulful playing, lifted as she slowly tapered off.
"Bravo, Atiana!", crowed my grandfather, giving the teen a round of hearty applause. "That was beautiful."
She bowed her black dyed head as she swept into a curtsey saying, "I've only you to thank for that, Mr. Glass." Atiana raised her head and stood straight, revealing an innocent pair of pale blue eyes guarded by long ebony lashes and thin liner. Her smile was kind as it stretched over her Snow White like complexion.
"Hi.", she said softly, suddenly shy.
I gave a small wave in response as Gramps introduced us. "Oh, you're up. Andie, this is my pupil of the piano, Atiana. Atiana, my granddaughter, Andie", he said brightly as we shook hands. "Andie just moved here from New Jersey."
"Really?" Atiana asked, curious.
"Yep, just flew in this morning." Offhandedly I began to wonder how long it would take the ice to be fully broken.
"Wow, I've never been to east coast before. Is it terribly cold over there?"
Ice broken, I replied, "Not too much. Only a little more so than here, I suppose."
"Cool. What kind of music do you listen to?" She probed, picking up her bag Night Before Christmas messenger bag and music book as she spoke.
"A lot of everything, really. Misfits, Bauhaus, The Clash, Radiohead.... You?" I saw, in the corner of my eye, Gramps creeping out of the picture, a relieved smile on his face.
"Some of this, some of that, The Cure and Bauhaus in particular.", she chuckled, lacing up her ballet flats. "There's this really cool band, AFI, from Oakland, California. Heard of them?"
"Can't say I have." I mused as she shifted her bag over her shoulder. "What do they sound like?"
"Crazy-cool! They're kinda punk, kinda goth, but you're have to listen to them to do them justice. I've got a CD of theirs at home if you want to take a listen?" Atiana suggested hopefully.
I was slightly taken aback by her child-like naivete, her quickness to trust. but accepted her offer as I was eager to make my first friend.
[Fast-Forward]
We trekked to her abode in the cold, only a few houses down the street from my new home. I found out that she was a sixteen-year-old junior at St. Mary Margaret's the all girls school nearby. Atiana was chatty, but in a pleasant way so I didn't mind her at all.
[Play]
"It's just me and my parents at home, now that the twins are gone. They got accepted to OTIS six years ago and graduated together four years later." Atiana spoke highly of her sisters' artistic abilities as we entered her house and shook off our winter coats. "They lived out in LA since they began attending OTIS, but they visit often. Here they are, don't mind the midget in the middle", she giggled, motioning to a picture on the foyer sideboard where two identical women with varying angular haircuts were squeezing Atina between themselves in a very uncomfortable looking embrace. "Those two set the bar pretty high, but that's what siblings are for, right?"
I shrugged. "I guess, but I wouldn't know. I'm an only child."
"Ah, should've been able to pinpoint that one." Atiana muttered. "You seemed a little lonely, very only-child-esque."
"Perceptive much?"
"People say I am. I just hope I don't get too intrusive with that gift."
During the comfortable hiatus in our conversation, a balding man with eyes that were similar to Atiana's, appeared to greet us.
"Thought I heard you, Ati", he grinned, then turned to me. "And who might this charming young lady be?"
"Dad this is my new friend, Andie, she just moved here from New Jersey." After introductions Mr. Guerrero moved towards the stairs.
"Your mom and I will be going out to dinner tonight and maybe a movie. Just remember--"
" '--no boys in the house after ten.' I know Dad, I know." Atiana finished the sentence as though she had it inscribed on the back of her hand.
"Thatta girl, they're downstairs right now, just incase you were wondering." He gave Atiana a pinch on the cheek and me a cheery wave before disappearing up the stairs.
"The boys are some of my closest friends who use our basement for band practice since we have the free space and my parent don't mind. Wanna take a listen before I grab the AFI CD?"
"Yeah, sure."
She led me through a halls to their basement door where I began to wonder if the band was taking a break as I could not hear a single crash of a cymbal.
"We put insulation in the walls, making it soundproof. So brace your ears, they could be making a racket for all we know." With that she pulled open the door.
The sound that poured out of the basement nearly bowled me over as rabid music and screaming filled my ears. We made our way down the wooden steps and a five black-clad individuals came into view. The pair of us sat down on a couch nearby to wait out the practice. The music was deafening but I could make out a few words of the singer; something about setting his friends on fire. The singer, a slim, dark haired fella was thrashing about most of the time while th other four, varying in composition, moved around each other with ease with the exception of the drummer. After a few minutes, the song ended and the band had huddled near the drum set.
"What do you think?" Atiana whispered.
"Sounds like something I might listen to. What's their name?"
"Aiden. Kinda a odd if you ask me, but oh well."
The band broke off to put away their equipment, one quicker than the others. He was dark haired, a bit pudgy with his darkened hair in his eyes and had two piercings on his lower lip.
"Hey babe," he greeted Atiana with a quick kiss to the temple. "How was your lesson?"
"Fine. Your practice sounded great, by the way." Atiana responded. Clearly these two were an item, a cute, gothic one at that. "This is my piano instructor's granddaughter, Andie. She's from New Jersey."
"I'm Nick." he said genially before another piped up from behind me.
"Jersey? As in My Chemical Romance's home state?" This one was about the same height as Nick but a bit slimmer and was the lead singer I had observed earlier.
"Yeah. You heard of them?" I smiled, knowing that the hard labor of the band I helped promote was not in vain.
"You kidding? Everyone on the underground circuit has to know of them." The drummer, a taller, lanky guy chipped in.
"Serious, those guys are trippy." Nodded another who was of the same build.
I was then introduced to each guy, Will the singer, Jake W. the guitarist. Jake D. the drummer, and Angel the quiet guitarist. They seemed like a cool bunch of people who I'd probably hang out with at school or meet up with for concerts; the latter Will confirmed as we ascended the stairs and entered the kitchen for a snack.
"Next time My Chem comes into town I hope we won't be off touring. We'll all go together as long as the illegal duo doesn't ditch us for a date like last time."
"What illegal duo?" I asked curious as we had Hotpockets.
Jake W. nodded over to Nick and Atiana as everyone else began passing jibes mainly at Nick.
"Nick is something like a child molester." Angel provided, confusing me.
At this Nick spoke up to set the record straight. "They just like making fun of us because they're a bunch of lonely bastards with only their hands for company." He said, wrapping an arm about his girlfriend's slim waist.
"Yeah, sure, pedophile!" nipped Angel.
Atiana merely rolled her eyes; obviously this was a hackneyed topic to her. "Nick's three years older than me so they always bring up that law that if he has sex with me, he commit statutory rape. You should see the nuns at the school when they see this old guy," she hitched her thumb up at her boyfriend with a smirk, "picking me up and looking all fresh-faced compared to him."
"Get outta here, you damn rapist!" jeered the Jakes in unison as everyone threw balled up paper napkins at them.
"Gladly." Nick replied, taking all the wise-cracking in his stride as he threw his slight-formed girlfriend over his shoulder.
"Yell if my parents come home!" she yelled to the group at large as the couple ascended the stairs.
I suspected an awkward moment to ensue but the Jakes saved us all from that.
"So, babe, how j'ou doin'?" Jake W. said, in a horribly awful impression of Joey from /Friends/.
"Tryin' to act like you's from Joisey?" I replied in the notoriously thick Jersey accent I had acquired in my years there.
"Woah that's really good!" Will pipped up, surprised.
I gave him a daring wink before refraining from my Jersey colloquialism. "Yeah, lived there for three years, so I've got that down." I said somewhat cockily, before laughing it up with the rest.
"You guys really have Mafias ruling the streets over there like the Godfather and all that shit?" Jake D. asked as we ate.
I barely held back a flinch at the mention of "mafia" considering it was the same business I was born into and fleeing that the moment. Shrugging, in what I hoped was an authentically nonchalant way, I replied, "Who else would throw strangled and mangled bodies into the Passaic?"
Chapter 007
[Play]
"...We hope you have enjoyed your flight with Delta Blue. Please choose us again next time." My eyes flickered opened to see the small number of my fellow red-eye passengers already converging at the exit. I shuffled to my feet and was among the last to the leave the plane. Being that everyone who rushed to leave the plane had already met up and left with their greeting party, it was easy for my to locate a particular senior citizen.
"Hey Gramps." I yawned as we hugged briefly.
His eyes crinkled and sparkled as he grinned back at me and helped me with my bags. "Hey yourself, kiddo. How was the flight?"
"Slept through most of it." I replied as he trudged out of the airport. "How're you?"
"Still breathing," he chuckled. "How's your dad? You two getting along alright?"
I smiled at his concern. Grampa Tommy was the one knew how deep my problems ran with dad, especially right after mom died. When I had not wanted anything to do with moving to New Jersey and had insisted on staying in Seattle with him instead, he was the voice of reason who gently coaxed me into getting on the plane.
"Things are better, not the same since mom died, but definitely better."
Grampa only knew that I was out here for a journalism program at the university as my father's pride had kept grampa from knowing the truth. (Dad didn't want to give justification to the infamous claim of grampa's that he was just a bad person who took this old man's only daughter away.)
[Fast-Forward]
On the car ride to my new home with grampa, we talked a little bit about this and that just to make sure that we were both still well updated on each other's lives.
[Play]
"So, Andie" his congenial voice filling his relatively new Volvo, "I'll be damned if my only grandchild, the one who has all her family charm, " at this, he smile cheekily, referring to my matriarchal side of the family, namely himself, "hasn't had a nice boyfriend or two since I last saw her."
That's another thing grampa doesn't know and, hopefully, will never find out about. "Well, then, you're saved. I have had a nice boyfriend or two as a matter-in-fact." I answered in a quasi-lie.
"Good. Did you leave behind a trail of broken hearts in New Jersey?"
"You know me, gramps, all this charms could amount to nothing less of that!" We laughed at our humor while I felt a horrible tug at my heart just brushing against the mere mention of anything to do with Mikey. I pulled a good cover by bringing grampa's love life into the lime light. "What about you? Got the old birds at Bingo Nights hanging off your arm like always?" (Like myself, my mom grew up without a mother since Grampa Tommy's then-wife had run off with someone when my mom was only a few years old. I guess that might be one of the reasons that she stuck it out with dad; she didn't want to be a coward like her own mother.)
A sly smirk crept along his feature as we pulled into the driveway. "You know me too well. But they can't resist this ancient Casanova." Chortling we headed into the quaint house that I had been to only a few times. Nothing was different, realy, same old 80's design, high ceilings, wooded house frame and the faint smell of scotch.
He directed me to mom's old room in which he kept all of her accomplishments. "If it's still too much, you can take the guest." Grampa stated apprehensively as he watched me take in the room as a whole.
"No... this is fine. Thank you." This felt like the place I needed to be right now, in the arms of my mother. Grampa nodded with a faint smile. "I think I'll just recharge my batteries then do something with the rest of my day."
"Sounds like a plan. Just holler if you need anything." With one last smile he shut the door behind himself.
I looked about, never having spent much time in this particular part of the house. I noticed some beautiful tiara's and scepters and various awards that indicating my mom's popularity at school and her intelligence, respectively. but a sudden yawn overtook me and I soon found myself snuggling under the frilly white duvet and deeply into sleep.
[Fast-Forward]
I awoke, around two in the afternoon (six in the evening in Jersey time), to the sound of classical piano playing softly through the house. Unable to take the trepidation, I decided to call Jamia.
[Play]
"...How'd Frankie take it?"
A sigh came through the line from Jamia. "We were supposed to be alone when I told him this morning after he came in from work. But right after I explained the whole 'sitch to him, in comes Mikey, looking for with a heavy hang over and..." her voice drifted off, letting me know that the rest wasn't ver pleasant.
"They had a fight didn't they?" A pause and I knew what that meant. "Jamia, I told you to not let them get at each other because of me!"
"Boys will be boys. But don't sweat, I managed to get him off Mikey before Frankie could do anything horrible."
"How bad did it get?"
"Picture this, it's been about twelve hours and Mikey's face is still swollen and Frankie's got a bruise that gone past purple to jaundice yellow."
"Oh that's nasty." I groaned just picturing my best guy friend and my ex duking it out in the middle of out apartment.
"Tell me about it. It was kinda disgusting but that cut on Frank's eyebrow makes him look quite dashing." Jamia piped up, trying to lighten the mood.
"Nice to know where your thoughts are heading." I said bluntly, a smirk following in its wake. "So I take it they aren't talking right now?"
"Nope. Once Mikey was in the loop about the whole thing, they got into a massive shouting match in the living room. Frank blamed your leaving solely on Mikey and completely threw out the family part of the reason saying you'd never listen to your dad. Then Mikes had a fit over how it was neither of our businesses what had happened between you two. I told him that it was very much my business since all I had to do was say the word and your dad would have him murdered in his bed. Ohhhh if your dad ever found out, he'd be out like a light, I'm telling you." Jamia finished with a huff. Clearly her anger with Mikey had yet to dissipate. "He wants to talk to you." She said suddenly, getting my hopes up. "Frankie wants to make sure you're okay."
"Oh." I replied somewhat disappointed. "You can put him on." I heard a muffled exchanging of words, then Frank's voice came flowing across the line.
"Can I please fuck him up for real just this once?" was the first thing that came out of his mouth.
"Frankie! No, he's your friend!" I immediately quashed the notion.
"But I feel like I should do something about this! And he's not my friend right now, that goddamn...." a string of curses ensued so vile I had to stop him.
"Frank, listen to me. We both know it was my mistake for letting Mikey treat me the way he did." I tried to assure him and spent the better part of the next half hour trying to do so. I also tried to convince him that my move would have been inevitable for I'd never put my friends in danger if I could help it.
"How long will it be like this?" he quarried, a question I knew he'd been dying to know the answer to.
"I honestly don't know Frank," I sighed. "A few months, a few years...? All I know is that I can't go over there and you guys can't visit me because people could be watching you guys now. But I'll be back on the next plane to Jersey when my dad lifts his ban."
"Since when did you listen to him? Or calling him 'dad' for that matter?" asked Frankie, surprised at my diction.
"Since I realized how one-of-a-kind my dad is."
After we hung up it was known to both parties, plainly and clearly, that Mikey and I would have zero contact to make the moving on part easier. Things were better off this way. But I'm going to hold on to one thing, one promise; that this chapter of my life would only fully be finished when (for I have a feeling it's going to be inevitable) I saw Mikey again, alive, well, and happy. Why? Because that's true love. No matter what happens, if we end up getting back together or not, I just want to see him in his old self. It's cheesy, yes, but that's what love is; being happy only when the one you love is happy.
I gave a stretch and a deep yawn before sliding on some comfy sweats and a thick grey sweatshirt over my shirt, not knowing if I was going out or not. I opened the door out to the hall only to realize the piano playing had not ceased at all and was now playing a slow, melancholy piece. Assuming it was one of those classical piano CD's that gramps loved to put on, I clopped downstairs only to be greeted by a mild surprise.
A young girl, easily younger than myself, sat at the piano, back erect, fingers angelically playing out the mournful melody. I paused at the very last step of the stair, peeking into the livingroom which both my grandfather and the piano player were occupying, to watch and listen. The tune sounded like something that could be played during the death scene of two star-crossed lovers like Romeo and Juliet. I began to see the gothic nature in which both the music and the girl came together as she was quite dressed the part. She wore a Gothic Lolita dress shirt with a black waist clincher with a plain pencil skirt that closed up it short slit with a white ribboned corset. Her legs were covered in opaque tights while her shoes, a pair of round-toed lace-up black ballet flats, laid next to the piano. The trance that I was under due to her soulful playing, lifted as she slowly tapered off.
"Bravo, Atiana!", crowed my grandfather, giving the teen a round of hearty applause. "That was beautiful."
She bowed her black dyed head as she swept into a curtsey saying, "I've only you to thank for that, Mr. Glass." Atiana raised her head and stood straight, revealing an innocent pair of pale blue eyes guarded by long ebony lashes and thin liner. Her smile was kind as it stretched over her Snow White like complexion.
"Hi.", she said softly, suddenly shy.
I gave a small wave in response as Gramps introduced us. "Oh, you're up. Andie, this is my pupil of the piano, Atiana. Atiana, my granddaughter, Andie", he said brightly as we shook hands. "Andie just moved here from New Jersey."
"Really?" Atiana asked, curious.
"Yep, just flew in this morning." Offhandedly I began to wonder how long it would take the ice to be fully broken.
"Wow, I've never been to east coast before. Is it terribly cold over there?"
Ice broken, I replied, "Not too much. Only a little more so than here, I suppose."
"Cool. What kind of music do you listen to?" She probed, picking up her bag Night Before Christmas messenger bag and music book as she spoke.
"A lot of everything, really. Misfits, Bauhaus, The Clash, Radiohead.... You?" I saw, in the corner of my eye, Gramps creeping out of the picture, a relieved smile on his face.
"Some of this, some of that, The Cure and Bauhaus in particular.", she chuckled, lacing up her ballet flats. "There's this really cool band, AFI, from Oakland, California. Heard of them?"
"Can't say I have." I mused as she shifted her bag over her shoulder. "What do they sound like?"
"Crazy-cool! They're kinda punk, kinda goth, but you're have to listen to them to do them justice. I've got a CD of theirs at home if you want to take a listen?" Atiana suggested hopefully.
I was slightly taken aback by her child-like naivete, her quickness to trust. but accepted her offer as I was eager to make my first friend.
[Fast-Forward]
We trekked to her abode in the cold, only a few houses down the street from my new home. I found out that she was a sixteen-year-old junior at St. Mary Margaret's the all girls school nearby. Atiana was chatty, but in a pleasant way so I didn't mind her at all.
[Play]
"It's just me and my parents at home, now that the twins are gone. They got accepted to OTIS six years ago and graduated together four years later." Atiana spoke highly of her sisters' artistic abilities as we entered her house and shook off our winter coats. "They lived out in LA since they began attending OTIS, but they visit often. Here they are, don't mind the midget in the middle", she giggled, motioning to a picture on the foyer sideboard where two identical women with varying angular haircuts were squeezing Atina between themselves in a very uncomfortable looking embrace. "Those two set the bar pretty high, but that's what siblings are for, right?"
I shrugged. "I guess, but I wouldn't know. I'm an only child."
"Ah, should've been able to pinpoint that one." Atiana muttered. "You seemed a little lonely, very only-child-esque."
"Perceptive much?"
"People say I am. I just hope I don't get too intrusive with that gift."
During the comfortable hiatus in our conversation, a balding man with eyes that were similar to Atiana's, appeared to greet us.
"Thought I heard you, Ati", he grinned, then turned to me. "And who might this charming young lady be?"
"Dad this is my new friend, Andie, she just moved here from New Jersey." After introductions Mr. Guerrero moved towards the stairs.
"Your mom and I will be going out to dinner tonight and maybe a movie. Just remember--"
" '--no boys in the house after ten.' I know Dad, I know." Atiana finished the sentence as though she had it inscribed on the back of her hand.
"Thatta girl, they're downstairs right now, just incase you were wondering." He gave Atiana a pinch on the cheek and me a cheery wave before disappearing up the stairs.
"The boys are some of my closest friends who use our basement for band practice since we have the free space and my parent don't mind. Wanna take a listen before I grab the AFI CD?"
"Yeah, sure."
She led me through a halls to their basement door where I began to wonder if the band was taking a break as I could not hear a single crash of a cymbal.
"We put insulation in the walls, making it soundproof. So brace your ears, they could be making a racket for all we know." With that she pulled open the door.
The sound that poured out of the basement nearly bowled me over as rabid music and screaming filled my ears. We made our way down the wooden steps and a five black-clad individuals came into view. The pair of us sat down on a couch nearby to wait out the practice. The music was deafening but I could make out a few words of the singer; something about setting his friends on fire. The singer, a slim, dark haired fella was thrashing about most of the time while th other four, varying in composition, moved around each other with ease with the exception of the drummer. After a few minutes, the song ended and the band had huddled near the drum set.
"What do you think?" Atiana whispered.
"Sounds like something I might listen to. What's their name?"
"Aiden. Kinda a odd if you ask me, but oh well."
The band broke off to put away their equipment, one quicker than the others. He was dark haired, a bit pudgy with his darkened hair in his eyes and had two piercings on his lower lip.
"Hey babe," he greeted Atiana with a quick kiss to the temple. "How was your lesson?"
"Fine. Your practice sounded great, by the way." Atiana responded. Clearly these two were an item, a cute, gothic one at that. "This is my piano instructor's granddaughter, Andie. She's from New Jersey."
"I'm Nick." he said genially before another piped up from behind me.
"Jersey? As in My Chemical Romance's home state?" This one was about the same height as Nick but a bit slimmer and was the lead singer I had observed earlier.
"Yeah. You heard of them?" I smiled, knowing that the hard labor of the band I helped promote was not in vain.
"You kidding? Everyone on the underground circuit has to know of them." The drummer, a taller, lanky guy chipped in.
"Serious, those guys are trippy." Nodded another who was of the same build.
I was then introduced to each guy, Will the singer, Jake W. the guitarist. Jake D. the drummer, and Angel the quiet guitarist. They seemed like a cool bunch of people who I'd probably hang out with at school or meet up with for concerts; the latter Will confirmed as we ascended the stairs and entered the kitchen for a snack.
"Next time My Chem comes into town I hope we won't be off touring. We'll all go together as long as the illegal duo doesn't ditch us for a date like last time."
"What illegal duo?" I asked curious as we had Hotpockets.
Jake W. nodded over to Nick and Atiana as everyone else began passing jibes mainly at Nick.
"Nick is something like a child molester." Angel provided, confusing me.
At this Nick spoke up to set the record straight. "They just like making fun of us because they're a bunch of lonely bastards with only their hands for company." He said, wrapping an arm about his girlfriend's slim waist.
"Yeah, sure, pedophile!" nipped Angel.
Atiana merely rolled her eyes; obviously this was a hackneyed topic to her. "Nick's three years older than me so they always bring up that law that if he has sex with me, he commit statutory rape. You should see the nuns at the school when they see this old guy," she hitched her thumb up at her boyfriend with a smirk, "picking me up and looking all fresh-faced compared to him."
"Get outta here, you damn rapist!" jeered the Jakes in unison as everyone threw balled up paper napkins at them.
"Gladly." Nick replied, taking all the wise-cracking in his stride as he threw his slight-formed girlfriend over his shoulder.
"Yell if my parents come home!" she yelled to the group at large as the couple ascended the stairs.
I suspected an awkward moment to ensue but the Jakes saved us all from that.
"So, babe, how j'ou doin'?" Jake W. said, in a horribly awful impression of Joey from /Friends/.
"Tryin' to act like you's from Joisey?" I replied in the notoriously thick Jersey accent I had acquired in my years there.
"Woah that's really good!" Will pipped up, surprised.
I gave him a daring wink before refraining from my Jersey colloquialism. "Yeah, lived there for three years, so I've got that down." I said somewhat cockily, before laughing it up with the rest.
"You guys really have Mafias ruling the streets over there like the Godfather and all that shit?" Jake D. asked as we ate.
I barely held back a flinch at the mention of "mafia" considering it was the same business I was born into and fleeing that the moment. Shrugging, in what I hoped was an authentically nonchalant way, I replied, "Who else would throw strangled and mangled bodies into the Passaic?"
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