What Might've Been (Cricky)

The Best Day Ever Has A Sort-Of Terrible Ending

A/n: poor Ricky

When I woke up that morning, it was just before my alarm clock went off. I was trying to get up on time to be prompt to go over those parts with the rest of the band. I had lots of time to choose which three belts I would pair together, which shirt was exactly the same shade of black as my favorite jeans, and to apply makeup without smudging it more than purposefully. I even had enough time to dawdle while choosing which bass I would take. 

My car was a bitch though. It never quite ran right, so I kept jumper cables in the back seat in case the almost-brand-new battery decided it didn't agree with the engine. The car ran out of gas randomly, so I illegally carried a gas can in the trunk. I'd filled my car on the highway so many times from here to Seattle that it had emptied, which meant that I had just recently gotten it filled. Thankfully, that wasn't today's case. The car started after just two attempts, so I didn't have to bombard some random person with the request of using their car to jump-start mine. 

However, the car did run out of gas about halfway to where the rest of the band was staying. (Why I wasn't asked to stay with them when I moved out here, I'll never know.) I popped the trunk, filled the gas tank, and kept driving onward. 

Upon arrival at the house, Chris opened the door at the sound of my car pulling up. "That's what you're driving?" He asked, looking appalled. It was a Saturn from nineteen ninety something, but once I got enough money, I was planning on trading it in for something a little bit more me and a little bit less 'highschooler without any money.' 

"I'll get a new car once we blow up," I explained to him, walking across the grass while holding my bass, which was within a thin black case that had slowly become covered in stickers that I'd acquired over the years. 

"I don't think you can wait that long." He was still staring at my absolute piece of shit that I called a car with his jaw almost open. "I guess if it still runs...." I didn't bother telling him that it barely did, and that a better housewarming gift would've been a set of keys to my new car. 

Once I'd entered the house, I immediately forgot who everyone was. I didn't want to ask though. I felt like that would make me look bad. Instead, I simply listened to what everyone else called each other. I slowly learned who Josh, Angelo, and Ryan were. Of course, I did remember TJ. Despite the fact that I'd shown no interest in him whatsoever, he seemed to be pushing to see what would happen. He  sat close to me, talked to me more than anyone, and was the only one to not constructively-criticize the ideas that I had. To be completely honest I liked that at the very least I had the conformation that they were listening to me. 

But then again, when the time of day came for me to go, I was sad to see it. I'll admit it, the reason why I was sad to leave had nothing to do with actually liking the other members, save Chris, and more that I had to ride around in my stupid sedan like an idiot. It probably wouldn't even start. Just like that, I'd jinxed it. I turned the key into the ignition eight times, probably flooding the engine, but got almost no juice. So I went to the back seat of the car, went to whip out my jumper cables, and found that the door was locked. I, being the occasional idiot that I was, had left the keys inside of my car. I was locked out. Completely. I walked up to the front door, told them I needed a jump start, and also that I needed a hairdryer. They were willing to give both to me. I took the hairdryer, held it up the the driver's side window, took a deep breath, and smashed the window in. In the process, I broke the hairdryer. TJ was the only one who technically owned a vehicle, so he was all too happy to give me a jump start. Once my engine was going, I hightailed out of there. 

Now, if you've never broken a window in your life, or anything made of glass for that matter, you wouldn't know that shards fly literally everywhere. I knew a few had flown into my skin, but I also knew that, having smashed the window in, there were shards of glass all over the seat, the steering wheel, and other various parts of the car. Not to mention, the window was falling apart, so more shards were flying into the car as I gained speed. 

Just when I thought that nothing worse than a shard of glass flying into my eye could happen, something worse happened. My engine finally died. The hood of the car started coughing smoke, then burst into flames the minute I stopped. I raced to get my guitar out of the backseat, and was grateful that I'd managed just in time. The gas tank that had been in my trunk exploded while the rest of the gasoline did as well. The car was a flaming circus. There was something sort of beautiful in it, and something sort-of horrifying. I was honestly just really glad that I was unharmed. 

The fire department showed up, putting out the flames before the spread even more. I was forced to walk home, soggy from the sheer force of the water that had hit me. I would've called someone, but now even my pager was wet and probably broken. (I would've gotten a cell phone by now, but saving up for a car was really important to me. In hindsight, I should've saved even more.) 

(A/n: At home, Ricky had a combination of two things. For the texting, he used his pager, for calls (and all that contact stuff) he had a landline.)

I was officially screwed over. I felt like a total loser as I crawled up the staircase to my apartment, showered all of the glass, makeup, and dirt off of me, and fell face-first onto my bed.

My phone rang once I was starting to drift off, and I was too tired to look at the name. "I heard about your car," Chris' voice told me. "I'm sorry."

"It's okay," I sighed. "Now I really have to get a new one."

"We were worried about you. We tried texting and calling you."

"My pager got wet from the fire department. I'll have to get a new one of those too."

There was a long silence. "I have an old one. I could just wipe it for you." He quickly added, "If you want!"

"That would be nice," I sighed. "Another pager? Or a real cell phone?"

"It's a BlackBerry. Is that okay?"

"Holy shit! Of course!" That was way better than what I was going to get. 

Chris laughed. "Glad I could help. I guess I'll just drive over to your place tomorrow to drop it off."

Right, my car. "Sorry about that."

"Nothing you can do. TJ's the only one of us who technically owns a car anyways."

Somehow, those were the most reassuring words I've ever heard in my life.