My Rockstar Neighbor

Chapter 2

WARNING
The contents of this book
may be disturbing to some readers. Contains explicit language, mild drug usage, and mentions of self harm. If you or a loved one are suffering from a metal illness there are people and programs set up to help you.
Keep this in mind as you go.
Reader discretion advised.

Spencer
Sunday March 31, 2024 :: 11:50 pm

        "I think we did pretty good, you guys." My Band mates all gave me a quick look before going back to their idle conversations with the staff around us. Not up for casual chitchatting right now I guess. It can be nerve racking waiting for our results as the last band finished up their last few songs.
The audio equipment was packed up and I was still messing around with my guitar when a hand grabbed the neck of the beautiful instrument and pulled it roughly out of my hands. I glared up at Chad's stupid face as I quickly grabbed the guitar back from him.
        "What the fuck's the matter with you?" I couldn't hide the anger that filled my veins as I carefully put the guitar safely down on its stand before I stood to face Chad.
Neither of us had a foot nor an inch on the other in height as we both stood on the line between six foot five and six foot six. From there to our forever matching brown hair and three day apart birthdays, everyone always assumed that we were twins. His bright blue sapphire eyes glistened with amusement as he raised his hands up in mock surrender.
        "Sorry." Was all he managed to croak out before he broke out in laughter. Growing up Chad had been a big influence on my music and clothing style so a lot of that grunge emo look I will forever blame on him. I had dyed my hair to be darker than his but if I were to have kept it longer and natural it would look just like Chad's spiked up locks. Though I've never been a fan of the spiky look. His black torn band t shirt was adorned with safety pins along some of the ripped holes and his jeans matched with bigger more impractical safety pins. The black wristbands he always wore never held any element of surprise. I finally gave him an easy smile.
        "Okay. Just don't ever grab Georgia from me like that ever again." I said as I instinctively grabbed the red faded to black rimmed electric guitar and hugged it close to me like a lover. I slowly sank back down onto the stool.
        "Yeah. Whatever, weirdo." Was all he could respond with as he turned around and walked away. He acted as if I was the weird one when I knew his Bass guitar's name is Mclovin. That is both weird and geeky all rolled into one. I placed the guitar slowly back down on its stand and a staff member finally saw it as an opportunity to try and grab it to pack it away.
        "No wait! I'm taking her home tonight." The staff person shrugged with an awkward smile and continued clearing out everything else. I had a habit of always taking my guitar and amp home with me every night. This staff lady must have been new.
I noticed the stumbling man before he even started walking. Our band's singer, Aaron walked over to me. I stood up from the stool once again and braced for impact. Without a word Aaron's muscled forearms were wrapped around my torso in a tight, breathless, hug before he quickly released me and I wiped invisible dust off my shoulders.
Aaron was predictable when it came to his greetings. When he had that stone cold glazed over, higher than a kite look in his diamond blue eyes then he was gonna hug you. Not necessarily to even really hug you but more to force you to help him stand up for a minute.
        "Aaron." I said simply as I gauged a reaction from him. He stared back at me with a mimicking expression before he finally responded. He blew the blond hair out of his eyes.
        "Spencer." He said in the same mocking tone as me. Aaron was a few inches shorter than me, standing at six foot three, so it was easy to see every facial expression he tried to hide. His lips curled upward as he tried desperately not to smile but he couldn't do it and ended up laughing out loud. I rolled my eyes at him, rubbing my thumb and two first fingers into my forehead. Sometimes these motherfuckers are asking to be punched, I thought to myself as a headache was beginning to form.
        "Nothing. It's nothing just messing with you." He was finally able to make out a sentence before he went back to laughing.
Aaron was only two short months younger than us but he still acted like the baller of the group. Though he kind of is as his uncle is actually our manager, Mr. Matthews the rich ceo of Matthew Entertainment Studios. He owns the huge recording label but that's beside the point. His clothes now were all designer brand names from Calvin Klein to gucci. As if he has to show he has money.
        "You're not messing with anyone, Aaron you're high." I said as I gave him a pat on the shoulders and turned him to walk toward quiet Damian in the corner. That's right bother the neutral demon, I couldn't help but laugh slightly at my evil intentions as Damian can't stand when Aaron is high and bothering him.
Damian has always been the quietest in the group only showing his presence with his sick ass drum solos but then he's back into the shadows like death waiting for the right time to strike. He's the baby of our group and quite possibly the baby to all of the year 2000, as his birthday is the last day in December of that year. He was literally born within minutes of the New Year. Although he may by the youngest, that would never be your first guess as he is the tallest of us. Damian stood six feet ten inches, a giant titan to us. Yet, His boring brown hair didn't take colored dyes very well and his brown eyes were boring enough to match. His appearance dulled him out again. He both stood out and blended in.
        Finally the announcer for the battle of the bands came out to tell us who was deemed the winner of the competition. It was a good thing too because I could see Damian and Aaron in the corner fighting over one of Damian's two drumsticks sitting there. I rolled my eyes at them as Chad smacked one of them on the head and ushered them over to me.
We waited in a big group as the grisly announcer read the scores out loud starting with the top five. The longer he went without saying our band name the more nervous I became. The more I felt like I was gonna throw up. Then he said it.
        "Last but not least the winners of our competition I am proud to present to you are, Apocalypsis!" I was in stunned silence as we made our way to claim our grand prize. The ten thousand dollar check gave us each a decent total of twenty-five hundred to put in our bank accounts. Now it was time we planned a party.