Categories > Celebrities > The Used > Why Don't You Just Drop Dead, McCracken?
Why Don’t You Just Drop Dead, McCracken? {5}
~~Marla’s POV~~
After our opening song we sang a couple more of our older ones that had been around since I was in high school and our newest one that way making it debut called, “Stabbed With a Laser Look”.
“All right,” I gasped into the mike, trying to sweat as ladylike as possible. “We are going to do our trademark cover song now. Last time Waldo picked a Clash song that seemed to go over pretty well and this week I picked a Michael Jackson song that I’m sure you will all hate.”
As soon as I finished that sentence there was a literal cacophony of boos from all corners of the room. Though I was sure that I had heard at least one cheer from the center of the room, but I could’ve been wrong. But I didn’t really care, because I liked MJ and when I was finished with the song I was sure that the unbelievers in the room would at least have developed a new respect for the King of Pop.
“Hey,” I said raising my hands defensively as a empty water bottle was thrown half-heartedly at my head and the throwee was promptly escorted out the door by none other than Bruno, whom I was beginning to grow fond of. “I’m freaking playing 'Billie Jean' and if you don’t like it you can just shove it. Hit it Pay.”
We began to play the song and even though the crowd had booed when we had announced what we were going to play, by the time were almost done with the song most, if not all, of the people in the crowd were singing along as Adam showed off his skills as a crooner.
“Boo, my ass,” I murmured to Waldo as Adam smiled shyly at the applause from the crowd and began to sneak backstage before they could see how red he was becoming from all of the attention. Waldo nodded in agreement and began to stand up and stretch from his seat behind the drum set when he looked past me to whoever was clearing his throat loudly over the sound system.
“Thank you all for coming,” Payton said as the crowd of fans milled around aimlessly talking to friends about the show or buying homemade merchandise from the tables all three bands had set up. “As always, CydeCwyped’s performance is dedicated to the memory of Paul O’Shea and one last thing before you go…As much as she hates to admit it, Miss Marla is now completely legal in the state of New York and can therefore drink herself into a stupor tonight at her birthday party, which you are all invited to by the way, and not get arrested as her stomach is being pumped at the hospital. Party is at our loft tonight, if you don’t know where that is…well too freaking bad I suppose.”
“And bring food,” Waldo said rushing up to the mike that Payton abandoned as I began to chase him around the stage so that I could show my appreciation for his little announcement properly with a huge punch in the kidney. “We’re poor and hungry. Pity us.”
“Oh God,” I laughed as Amy restrained me from attacking Payton who was currently hiding behind an amp. “Do you guys have any idea how much I hate you?”
“Hate us?” Adam said confusedly reappearing from backstage with Billy hot on his heels. He then spotted Payton peeking out from behind the amp and suddenly understood what was going on. “Oh yea, the birthday party. All Amy’s idea.”
“Oh, really?” I said rounding on Amy who picked up Billy to protect herself.
“I love you?” She said as Billy wagged his tail in her face and tried to lick me from about three feet away.
“Of course we love you, kiddo,” Shay said seeming to appear out of nowhere with a group of four guys trailing behind him. “We love to embarrass you.”
“That I can see,” I replied going over and giving him a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. “Because only someone who loves me very very much would invite roughly three hundred people over to my loft that hasn’t been cleaned in about two weeks and only has a bottle of mustard and some expired Pepto-Bismol in the fridge.” The last part I said very loudly for the benefit of my roommates who just shrugged and began to pack up the equipment.
“All Payton, my dear,” he said smoothly passing the blame onto another. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks for introducing us,” a tall guy with longish light brown hair said nudging Shay in the ribs and extending his hand towards me. “Russ Greene, Reprise Records.”
“Marla Reynolds, nice to meet you,” I replied feeling slightly confused as I motioned for Adam, Payton, and Waldo to come over. “Did you said ‘Records’…as in the label kind?”
“Yes,” Russ said with a slow smile as I asked this question. “As in the label kind. I’ve heard a lot about you guys from Shay here and he was nice enough to send me a couple of your Cds.”
“Shay,” Payton said suspiciously. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” he replied hastily as he began to back away from us. “ I just need to go and make sure Seth is turning off the sound system. Marla…see you later at the party.”
We watched for a second as Shay walked away from us with a self-satisfied smile on his face towards Seth, a local college student, who was anxiously pushing buttons on the audio board in the control room before turning back to Russ who wore a smile that almost identically matched Shay’s. For a second I could see the boy that he used to be running around with Shay wearing mischievous smiles at smoky nightclubs and hole-in-the- wall venues that they were way to young to be in legally.
“If it doesn’t seem to hasty of me,” Russ said slowly. “I would like to offer CydeCwyped a contract right now.”
“What?” Waldo said a little too loudly as he gripped tightly onto Amy’s hand, cutting off the circulation for sure.
“It would only be temporary,” Russ continued talking faster and faster as if he expected one of us to start pulling our hair out in madness or babbling incoherently at any second. “That is, until I can get you guys into the studio or set up a tour schedule.”
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been in this band?” Adam said in his normal even, quiet voice and I sank to the floor as my knees gave out beneath me. “Almost five years. And never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that something this fucking AWESOME would happen!”
“Hells, yea!” and other such expletives came from Waldo and Payton as Amy just began to scream, laugh, and sob simultaneously. I simply stared at Russ’s Nikes and wondered idly where he got them, how much they cost, and if they came in red.
“Marla?” Amy’s said worriedly as her face swam into view blocking out Russ’s tennis shoes and bringing me back to reality. “Marla? Are you going to throw up?”
Russ backed away slightly, taking his shiny blue shoes with him.
“Yep,” Payton said. “She’s gonna barf.”
“No,” I said softly and then again more loudly. “No, I’m not going to throw up. I was just…um could you excuse us for a minute, Russ?”
“No problem,” Russ said warily as if I might vomit Exorcist style all over him at any minute. He went over to stand at the edge of the stage where the three guys who were with him had wandered off to.
“What?” Waldo snapped looming over me like a pissed off jolly blue giant.
“Could you bring it down a couple of levels?” I asked not trusting my legs to help me stand just yet. “I can’t talk when I have the whole 3-D crotch vision thing going on. It’s like some horrible porn from this view.”
The guys laughed as they knelt so that I could talk to them face to face.
“What’s the problem?” Adam asked quietly so that Russ and his friends wouldn’t hear him.
“Nothing,” I said trying to shake off the fog that clouded my head. “Seriously guys, think about it. If we get signed, then music suddenly becomes work and then its not fun anymore. We’ll have to record a Cd, and that takes a couple of months. Touring does too. What if we get really popular and turn into one of those stupid bands that everyone listens to and isn’t true to their music anymore and pimps themselves out to make money and begins to hate each other and then we break up and never talk to each other again. I don’t think I could stand to lose you guys…I would just die.”
At some point I realized that I was beginning to ramble and then I noticed that I was crying, for what reason I don’t really know.
“Breathe,” Payton said putting a hand gently on my shoulder. “ I know you’re scared. I am too. I’m scared that this will change us, but we’ll never have another chance like this so we just have to try not to let that happen. I mean, we’ve wanted this since high school, this is what Paul always wanted for us, if we got the opportunity we should take it because it may never happen again.”
I let out a breath that I hadn’t know that I had been holding and smiled at three guys surrounding me, so much more like brothers than my real brother ever had been. I looked down at my left hand and traced the letters that encircled my ring finger before I looked up and met Amy’s eyes that reflected nothing but love and support back at me. This was my family and in the end I would do anything for them. I would die for them. “Well, we’ve certainly got the chance, so let’s take it…for Paul.”
“Paul would also want you to get your little butt off the floor so I can stop showing my ass off to these record guys.” Adam said pulling me up to my full height of 5ft 2in.
“Whatever,” Waldo said. “They were so looking at my lovely ass.”
“Mr. Greene,” I called taking Billy from Amy’s arms and letting him lick the tears from my face with his slobbery puppy kisses. “We would like to accept your offer, because if we didn’t I think my mom would have me committed.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” Russ said shaking everyone’s hands energetically. “We like to take care of our band’s at Reprise, in fact; how would you like to meet some other clients of the label?”
Everyone consented in one form or another before Russ led us over to his three companions.
“This,” Russ said gesturing grandly at the three normal looking guys as if they were some fabulous prize off of the Price is Right. “Is exactly three-fourths of one of our very best bands, The Used.”
~~Marla’s POV~~
After our opening song we sang a couple more of our older ones that had been around since I was in high school and our newest one that way making it debut called, “Stabbed With a Laser Look”.
“All right,” I gasped into the mike, trying to sweat as ladylike as possible. “We are going to do our trademark cover song now. Last time Waldo picked a Clash song that seemed to go over pretty well and this week I picked a Michael Jackson song that I’m sure you will all hate.”
As soon as I finished that sentence there was a literal cacophony of boos from all corners of the room. Though I was sure that I had heard at least one cheer from the center of the room, but I could’ve been wrong. But I didn’t really care, because I liked MJ and when I was finished with the song I was sure that the unbelievers in the room would at least have developed a new respect for the King of Pop.
“Hey,” I said raising my hands defensively as a empty water bottle was thrown half-heartedly at my head and the throwee was promptly escorted out the door by none other than Bruno, whom I was beginning to grow fond of. “I’m freaking playing 'Billie Jean' and if you don’t like it you can just shove it. Hit it Pay.”
We began to play the song and even though the crowd had booed when we had announced what we were going to play, by the time were almost done with the song most, if not all, of the people in the crowd were singing along as Adam showed off his skills as a crooner.
“Boo, my ass,” I murmured to Waldo as Adam smiled shyly at the applause from the crowd and began to sneak backstage before they could see how red he was becoming from all of the attention. Waldo nodded in agreement and began to stand up and stretch from his seat behind the drum set when he looked past me to whoever was clearing his throat loudly over the sound system.
“Thank you all for coming,” Payton said as the crowd of fans milled around aimlessly talking to friends about the show or buying homemade merchandise from the tables all three bands had set up. “As always, CydeCwyped’s performance is dedicated to the memory of Paul O’Shea and one last thing before you go…As much as she hates to admit it, Miss Marla is now completely legal in the state of New York and can therefore drink herself into a stupor tonight at her birthday party, which you are all invited to by the way, and not get arrested as her stomach is being pumped at the hospital. Party is at our loft tonight, if you don’t know where that is…well too freaking bad I suppose.”
“And bring food,” Waldo said rushing up to the mike that Payton abandoned as I began to chase him around the stage so that I could show my appreciation for his little announcement properly with a huge punch in the kidney. “We’re poor and hungry. Pity us.”
“Oh God,” I laughed as Amy restrained me from attacking Payton who was currently hiding behind an amp. “Do you guys have any idea how much I hate you?”
“Hate us?” Adam said confusedly reappearing from backstage with Billy hot on his heels. He then spotted Payton peeking out from behind the amp and suddenly understood what was going on. “Oh yea, the birthday party. All Amy’s idea.”
“Oh, really?” I said rounding on Amy who picked up Billy to protect herself.
“I love you?” She said as Billy wagged his tail in her face and tried to lick me from about three feet away.
“Of course we love you, kiddo,” Shay said seeming to appear out of nowhere with a group of four guys trailing behind him. “We love to embarrass you.”
“That I can see,” I replied going over and giving him a loud smacking kiss on the cheek. “Because only someone who loves me very very much would invite roughly three hundred people over to my loft that hasn’t been cleaned in about two weeks and only has a bottle of mustard and some expired Pepto-Bismol in the fridge.” The last part I said very loudly for the benefit of my roommates who just shrugged and began to pack up the equipment.
“All Payton, my dear,” he said smoothly passing the blame onto another. “Happy Birthday.”
“Thanks for introducing us,” a tall guy with longish light brown hair said nudging Shay in the ribs and extending his hand towards me. “Russ Greene, Reprise Records.”
“Marla Reynolds, nice to meet you,” I replied feeling slightly confused as I motioned for Adam, Payton, and Waldo to come over. “Did you said ‘Records’…as in the label kind?”
“Yes,” Russ said with a slow smile as I asked this question. “As in the label kind. I’ve heard a lot about you guys from Shay here and he was nice enough to send me a couple of your Cds.”
“Shay,” Payton said suspiciously. “What did you do?”
“Nothing,” he replied hastily as he began to back away from us. “ I just need to go and make sure Seth is turning off the sound system. Marla…see you later at the party.”
We watched for a second as Shay walked away from us with a self-satisfied smile on his face towards Seth, a local college student, who was anxiously pushing buttons on the audio board in the control room before turning back to Russ who wore a smile that almost identically matched Shay’s. For a second I could see the boy that he used to be running around with Shay wearing mischievous smiles at smoky nightclubs and hole-in-the- wall venues that they were way to young to be in legally.
“If it doesn’t seem to hasty of me,” Russ said slowly. “I would like to offer CydeCwyped a contract right now.”
“What?” Waldo said a little too loudly as he gripped tightly onto Amy’s hand, cutting off the circulation for sure.
“It would only be temporary,” Russ continued talking faster and faster as if he expected one of us to start pulling our hair out in madness or babbling incoherently at any second. “That is, until I can get you guys into the studio or set up a tour schedule.”
“Do you have any idea how long I’ve been in this band?” Adam said in his normal even, quiet voice and I sank to the floor as my knees gave out beneath me. “Almost five years. And never in my wildest dreams did I ever think that something this fucking AWESOME would happen!”
“Hells, yea!” and other such expletives came from Waldo and Payton as Amy just began to scream, laugh, and sob simultaneously. I simply stared at Russ’s Nikes and wondered idly where he got them, how much they cost, and if they came in red.
“Marla?” Amy’s said worriedly as her face swam into view blocking out Russ’s tennis shoes and bringing me back to reality. “Marla? Are you going to throw up?”
Russ backed away slightly, taking his shiny blue shoes with him.
“Yep,” Payton said. “She’s gonna barf.”
“No,” I said softly and then again more loudly. “No, I’m not going to throw up. I was just…um could you excuse us for a minute, Russ?”
“No problem,” Russ said warily as if I might vomit Exorcist style all over him at any minute. He went over to stand at the edge of the stage where the three guys who were with him had wandered off to.
“What?” Waldo snapped looming over me like a pissed off jolly blue giant.
“Could you bring it down a couple of levels?” I asked not trusting my legs to help me stand just yet. “I can’t talk when I have the whole 3-D crotch vision thing going on. It’s like some horrible porn from this view.”
The guys laughed as they knelt so that I could talk to them face to face.
“What’s the problem?” Adam asked quietly so that Russ and his friends wouldn’t hear him.
“Nothing,” I said trying to shake off the fog that clouded my head. “Seriously guys, think about it. If we get signed, then music suddenly becomes work and then its not fun anymore. We’ll have to record a Cd, and that takes a couple of months. Touring does too. What if we get really popular and turn into one of those stupid bands that everyone listens to and isn’t true to their music anymore and pimps themselves out to make money and begins to hate each other and then we break up and never talk to each other again. I don’t think I could stand to lose you guys…I would just die.”
At some point I realized that I was beginning to ramble and then I noticed that I was crying, for what reason I don’t really know.
“Breathe,” Payton said putting a hand gently on my shoulder. “ I know you’re scared. I am too. I’m scared that this will change us, but we’ll never have another chance like this so we just have to try not to let that happen. I mean, we’ve wanted this since high school, this is what Paul always wanted for us, if we got the opportunity we should take it because it may never happen again.”
I let out a breath that I hadn’t know that I had been holding and smiled at three guys surrounding me, so much more like brothers than my real brother ever had been. I looked down at my left hand and traced the letters that encircled my ring finger before I looked up and met Amy’s eyes that reflected nothing but love and support back at me. This was my family and in the end I would do anything for them. I would die for them. “Well, we’ve certainly got the chance, so let’s take it…for Paul.”
“Paul would also want you to get your little butt off the floor so I can stop showing my ass off to these record guys.” Adam said pulling me up to my full height of 5ft 2in.
“Whatever,” Waldo said. “They were so looking at my lovely ass.”
“Mr. Greene,” I called taking Billy from Amy’s arms and letting him lick the tears from my face with his slobbery puppy kisses. “We would like to accept your offer, because if we didn’t I think my mom would have me committed.”
“You won’t be disappointed,” Russ said shaking everyone’s hands energetically. “We like to take care of our band’s at Reprise, in fact; how would you like to meet some other clients of the label?”
Everyone consented in one form or another before Russ led us over to his three companions.
“This,” Russ said gesturing grandly at the three normal looking guys as if they were some fabulous prize off of the Price is Right. “Is exactly three-fourths of one of our very best bands, The Used.”
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