Story Of A Lonely Girl

Twenty Two

-Lucifer's Point Of View-

I find it kind of cute how Tom's psyched that he's throwing gigs with his band in a month. Today it's my turn to go to his house. I'm finally meeting his fellow band mates and family. Well I guess they all end up in the same bundle because family means band-mily, am I right, can I get a whoop whoop?

Just kidding that was a terrible joke, forget about it.

We were about to get to his doorstep when I started laughing my head off because Tom told me about that time his band mate Mark accidentally jabbed his foot in a toilet while being drunk and they had to call emergencies so they could carefully remove it without cutting or breaking the toilet (or rather his foot). I decided I kinda liked this guy Mark.

He opened the door for me and introduced me to his parents and little sister Kari. I didn't get to meet his older brother Shon since he was living further into town because of college. Tom led me to his room upstairs, and he taught me the chords to a couple of his own songs and played guitar with me until the guys from his band would come over to rehearse in his garage.

After half an hour only one of them showed up; Mark.

“Scott won't come over dude,” he said to Tom while entering his bedroom and throwing his bass on Tom's bed. Mark waved and nodded at me. I supposed this 'Scott' guy was the drummer.

“What the heck, why? He hasn't been with us since last week, we can't practice without a fucking drummer! Ugh, fucking moron he is,” Tom said, a twitch angry.

“He's a moron, he's been drinking again. I gave him a call before coming over here, and his roommate told me he didn't know what to do with Scott. I think it's gone worse. The guy told me he's been aggressive. What a dickhead,” Mark said, shaking his head.

“Oh hi my name is Mark,” he then randomly blurted really fast to me, extending his hand.

“Lucifer,” I timidly smiled and accepted the handshake. “Oh, so you're the Lucifer huh,” Mark said exchanging a glance with Tom. I preferred to ignore that.

*

We went downstairs to Tom's garage and I helped the guys by setting up their microphones and amplifiers. His mom peeked her head through the garage's door that lead to his house. She entered the garage with a tray full of snacks and asked of Scott's presence, or rather lack of presence. When she left, she told me to make myself at home. I decided I liked his mom too, she felt like a good mother- like the one's who take care of you the second you catch the slightest cold or cough. Actually I guess all the mother's do that except mine. Or at least she used to do that shit when she actually cared about having a daughter, and aware of the responsibility of taking care of her.

The guys played really good actually. I can already guess why they got called to do a short tour around The States. Well, actually west and south states. No, not all of the west and south states- that's why it's called a 'short tour'. Tom had told me earlier this week that I might end up tagging along in the tour with his band if my mom didn't mind. Mom wouldn't even acknowledge my absence, I know that for sure.

I pretended to be interested with the blue Fender Stratocaster I was holding in my arms in the corner of the small garage. To be honest, I kinda fell in love with that guitar and secretly wished Tom would give me this guitar since he owns about six or seven different guitars- all Stratocasters or Gibsons; not to mention his beautiful white and gold Gibson Les Paul which I assumed he took immense care of it and barely even dared to take her out of her case, only to it show off to guests like me.