The Music Or The Misery (FOB FanFic)

Chapter 3

-Joe's POV-

I was sitting in a chair surrounded by a bunch of women dressed in nothing but their bras and underwear. I had a cigarette in between my lips and a lighter in my hand.

Down here, underground, I was viewed as a God almost. Or maybe Jesus, the God was Tommy Lee.

I absolutely loved it down here, you know, when the Feds weren't trying to raid it out. My kind of people lived down here. We were like one big family almost.

The only thing I didn't like is that my friends or my girlfriend, Marie, wouldn't come down here with me.

"This is stupid, Joe, you're going to get killed," Marie objected as I packed my bags to go underground, where I heard there was an illegal music scene. Illegal or not, I didn't care. As I long as I could still play music.

"Well it's better than staying up here and living in total misery," I replied, zipping up the bag and hoisting it up off of the bed.

"Babe, I don't want to lose you. Not like this." Tears wavered in her eyes.

"I don't want to lose you either, Marie, that's why I'm trying to get you to come with me," I set my bag down and slipped my hands underneath her jawline, swiping my thumb across her wet cheek, "It doesn't have to be like this. We can still be together. Just come with me."

"No, Joe, I can't." She stepped out of my hold and turned away from me.

"And why not?"

"Because I have a life up here," She spun around so she was facing me, "I'm not like all you artists and musicians and writers. I'm not affected by the ban."

"But I am," I conveyed to her, shaking my hands in frustration because she wasn't seeing things my way. "Don't you love me?"

"Of course I do, Joe."

"Then why won't you come with me?"

"Joe, I already told you," She crossed her arms.

I heaved a sigh and bent down, picking my bag back up. "Fine. But I'm going to do this, Marie. It's your last chance - are you going to come with me or not?"

She stood there for a little before hanging her head and murmuring, "No, I'm not going, Joe. I'm sorry."

It was difficult to hear that, but not as difficult as hearing that I couldn't play music anymore.

Patrick, Pete, Andy and I were all together when we found out.

It was the day after our fourth studio album was released and we had gotten together just to hang out, unwind a bit. It was a tradition almost, seeing as we've done it after every big album release we've had.

We were sitting in Pete's living room and chilling out, watching TV, talking, eating pizza, whatever. His son, who wasn't even two months old yet, was with us as well. Pete was bouncing him on his leg when the program we were watching was interrupted by a national broadcast. Pete shushed us all.

"Turn it up," Pete demanded of Patrick. Patrick picked the remote out of the crack in the couch and upped the volume.

"...I repeat," The president spoke, "I, as president of this country, declare that all artistic expression in the United States of America is hereby banned."

The four of us went dead silent, even Bronx stopped making his obnoxious but adorable baby sounds when he heard that.

"Tomorrow there will be government officials coming by your place of residence and entering your home, which they have already been warranted to do, to dispose of any art pieces you may own - canvases, art supplies of any kind, CDs, DVDs, instruments, et cetera. If you refuse, you will be subject to immediate arrest and possible imprisonment.

"If this ban is broken - be it by an artist, musician, filmmaker, writer, et cetera - said law violator will be subject to any punishment as seen fit. Whether it be life in prison or the death penalty."

"The death penalty?" Patrick croaked.

"What the fuck?" Pete remarked in disbelief.

We had to break up. There was no reason to be a band if there was no music to be played.

And I think that was the most difficult part - leaving my best friends. I hadn't seen any of them since I've left.

For the past six months, I've been down here with other musicians who are like me, wanting to keep their integrity and not submit to the government's ridiculous ban.

I just lit the cigarette when I was approached by a scantily-clad dressed woman, a letter in her hand. "This is for you, Mr. Trohman."

"Who's it from?"

"Don't know. Jack gave it to me and told me to give it to you, nothing else."

I hesitated a little before obtaining the letter from her hold. The woman spun around and walked away.

I grasped the cigarette in between my index and middle finger and opened the letter, taking it out from the envelope with only my name written on it. The women around me all looked over my shoulder as I unfolded the piece of paper and began to read it.

Author's Note: Before you get angry with me, the next chapter is when what's on the note will be revealed. I just wanted to write from each of the guys' perspectives before the book really started to show what each of them did after "the ban". Alright? Cool. Anyways, I hope you like this book so far and thank you so much for reading! -Rachael