Drunk or Sober

The White Bracelet Band

We all walked into another all white room, this one with music posters hung all around and a stage towards the back of the room. There were instruments in bins and Wyatt immediately ran right onto the stage.

"Hello everybody!"

"Who exactly is in charge of this?" Harleigh shouted.

"Me!" Wyatt screamed into the microphone.

"This day can't get any better." She muttered. Harleigh obviously was being sour about having to be here, but that didn't stop Ramona and I from soaking in the once in a lifetime experience.

Ramona ran to a pair of drums on the stage and sat on the stool in front often. She waved her hands to get me to come over, but I shook my head and laughed.

"She your girlfriend?" Rosie walked in front of me.

"I think she is." I laughed.

"How old are you?" She had to tilt her head upwards to talk to me to I wondered how old she was; she talked like she had to be at least fifteen, but the height factor was lacking. She was adorable though, with a ribbon tying up half of her hair, and a contrasting all-black outfit.

"Eighteen, why?"

"Stop bullshitting your life because you're worried about embarrassing yourself. You're literally in a hospital with kids much, much, much crazier than you are, and you don't wanna get on that fucking stage." She aggressively pushed me forward. Rosie proved to be the feisty type.

"Fine! Fine! I'll go."

"That's right, keep walking, Wes." Rosie reminded me a lot of Lennox in a way. Shit, I had almost forgotten... I hadn't even called a Lennox.

I pulled my phone out of my pocket.

"No phones allowed, love." Ms. Kat said, taking my phone as well as a seat in a chair in front of the stage.

I made my way on the stairs and decided to take up the piano. I used to take lessons when I was younger, so I couldn't be that bad, right? Rosie took up guitar with Isaac, and Harleigh leaned against the wall, rolling her eyes.

"We should force her on stage." Wyatt whispered. "Can she sing?"

Ramona laughed. "I've never even heard her. I mean, she sings in the car, but that's mostly just screaming.

"Well, it doesn't really matter anyway... Rosie, get her up here, won't ya?"

"Do I have to?" Rosie groaned, putting her guitar down. Wyatt nodded and Isaac gave her a thumbs up. I guess he was good at followed along.

"I'll just go with you." I offered.

I followed Rosie to cure a bitter Harleigh through the power of music.

"Harleigh, what the hell are you doing?" Rosie's arms flung in the air and then settled on her hips disapprovingly.

"It's called being normal, you should try it, Rosie." Harleigh rolled her eyes and crossed her arms.

"Normal? Do you even know where you are?"

"Yeah, and I know that I don't belong here."

"You hear that, Wes? Suit yourself," Rosie grumbled, turning to walk away. I grabbed her hand and spun her around in front of Harleigh.

My hands rested on top of her tiny shoulders. "What she means is, we'd all really appreciate your time and company if you joined us up on that stage." Rosie shot me a glare and I smiled. "Right, Rosie?"

She coughed and looked down at her feet. "Yup."

"Well... I suppose if you all want me to, like you said... even Isaac included." Harleigh smirked innocently.

Rosie perked up right away, her fists clenched and eyebrows narrowed. "You'd be the last person he'd go for. You know, he'd probably rather take his chances with Wyatt- not that that's wrong or anything- but Wyatt's such a bad kisser, but even that's still better than a hook up with you." Rosie snickered, shaking herself out of my light grip.

"What'd you say? Sorry, can't hear you over my contemplation for staying here, or going on stage."

"Alright, ladies! Let's just go." I interrupted, putting my arms around both Harleigh and Rosie.

Once we were all settled, with just Ms. Kat as our eager, dedicated audience- fan, rather- I wondered what the hell we were even going to play.

"Quick question: what are we doing?" Ramona asked shyly.

"You play anything. It doesn't have to sound good, at all that is, but it's stress relieving. Just bang keys or scream random shit, anything's good around here."

Ramona shrugged her shoulders at me with her drumsticks in each hand. I was almost positive Ramona had only ever taken a mandatory music class in elementary school.

Wyatt started to sing, and he raised his arms in a conductor-like motion, gesturing for us to play.

I'll spare you the unimportant details: we sucked. Harleigh sang the same verse of "Fuck this. Fuck that. I'm getting a heart attack."

I, at first, attempted to get a beat on the piano going, but concluded that this 'band' wasn't about being good, it was about expression, and express is what I did.

Thus, I closed my eyes and attacked the keys, slamming my fingers on top of them. Everyone was really getting into it.

I don't really know how we all agreed to stop at once, but the dull roar of clapping threw us off. I didn't even realize more than Ms. Kat had been in the room until I heard something crash against the stage.

It was Harleigh's microphone, and she was standing there frozen, just staring into the audience. I looked at her, then to the row of chairs in front of the stage, and I finally understood her unsettling silence.

In the front row- still applauding us, in a melodic beat might I add- was Mr. and Mrs. Queen, Ryder, Nate, Lennox, and even little Charlotte.