No room in this hell | Frerard |

Skylines and turnstiles

Franks POV

I've lived in New Jersey my whole life, I've been in and out of jobs and bands over the last few years but I've been with my band Pencey prep for the last year or so now. Our music is fun and it keeps me busy but every now and then I can feel us loose sight of why we started playing in the first place.

New Jersey. The home of punk. It gets me so excited every time I step on stage. It's where the Misfits made their name and it's where I'll make mine.

We're playing a show at Joe's on Saturday. Our first gig since our drummer got back from rehab. We're rusty and the songs we have are old and tired. I can't help but feel washed up at 24 every time we recycle the same five tracks.

The week came fast and went faster, I work for my dad part time at his motor shop. He hates that I'm not committed to his business, that I don't have a 'real' job, he respects music, my forefathers were musicians but He doesn't believe I can make it.

He has such a hard time excepting  that I'm bisexual, he made me promise I wouldn't tell the rest of the family or my mother because it would break their hearts. I sometimes think I'll never be good enough for them. I can't think of anything I want more than to just be enough for someone.

*Saturday*

Tim and I finished loading up the van. "Can we stop for coffee?" I asked, walking around the side and opening the door. Tim opened the door and ducked into the drivers side "we need gas anyway" he huffed as he started the engine, the rest of the band climbed inside "SHOTGUN" I yelled giddily back to the others as I jumped in and swung the door closed behind me.

We set off along the street before Tim spoke again "We're getting coffee because Frank doesn't seem to have enough energy" he jeered, jabbing me in the ribs with his elbow. Laughter erupted in the back as we turned into the gas station. "You're gonna have a heart attack one of these days Frank" one of them retorted.

We pulled into the gas station and slowed to a stop next to a gas pump. I unbuckled and threw the door open, my legs dangling off the side of the seat "I gotta grow more" I grumble to myself as I slide out "it's your turn to get the gas Frank, number 4!" Tim called behind me. I turn to flip him off and step backwards inside the door, the bell jingling above me. I turn and look at the floor to avoid the glare of the Florescent lights.

I walked to the counter, picking up a bag of m&ms and some gum on the way before dumping them down in front of the guy behind the counter "hey, can I get two packs of lucky strikes, 4 cups of Joe and 20 on pump 4?" "You got it" he smiled, gathering the items behind the counter.

I handed the guy fifty bucks and began balancing the coffee and cigarettes in my arms "keep the change" I yell back, already half way out the door. I made my way back to the van, placing the coffee cups on the roof. "I asked for 20 dude, you can pump. I want this coffee" I rambled, pressing my forehead against the insulated cup in my hands. I put my things on the seat and smoothed over my clothes, I caught my reflection in the window, quickly running my fingers through my hair. Tim chuckled as put the pump back in the cradle. I handed the coffees back and set Tim's in the cup holder. I slid my cigarettes and gum in my pocket and tossed the bag of m&ms on the back seat for them to scramble over.

We drove the rest of the way without words, I put one of the demo CD's labelled 'skylines and turnstiles' in the player and rested my head against the window. "Good shit" Tim mumbled. I looked out to see people slumped down on the ground outside vacant stores on the strip we drove down, people bundled up, fending off the cold  around a bonfire held by a oil drum. huddled together tightly to battle, unanimously against cold October air. I fall from the thought and look back at Tim. "Is it?" I ask.