Spanish Bombs

An Unusual Brother

"C'mon, Paul, don't fed up! Take me with you!"

"How many times I've said to you that you shouldn't and you mustn't come to see the Sex Pistols?!"

"Paul, I'm not 12, I'm 16!"

"Sophie, you're too young! They smoke, do drugs and drink!"

"Paul, don't be so naive! I know that tonight you'll go there secretly with your little friends...What are their names? Jeff, Michael and Tim? Or maybe Joey, Mickey and Tommy?"

"They're Joe, Mick and Topper...anyway, how have you discovered that I'll go there, little pest?"

"You have hidden the ticket in MY underwear's drawer, twit. And I'm going to tell our Mum all about this!"

"Don't try to do it!"

"And if I'll do it?"

"C'mon, tell me, what do you want in exchange for not saying anything to Mum and Dad?"

"I want to come with you."

"But..."

"MOT.."

"SHUT UP! Ok, I'll take you with me! Put on heavy clothes, outside is freezing."

"Oh, well done, Paul!"

I ran to kiss my brother.

"Kiss-ass."

"I love you, I know."

I put on my clothes: knee-hole jeans, Sex Pistols'shirt, leather jacket and combat boots.

By the way, I'm Sophie Simonon, I'm 16 and I live in London with my family. Indeed, that not rocket science who I was arguing with is my bigger brother, Paul Simonon, nineteen-year-old boy that loves playing the bass with his three best friends, Joe, Mick and Topper.

"Hurry up, Sophie! We've got to go, it's late!"

"You're a pain in the ass! I'm coming..."

I put my earrings in and I looked at the reflection of myself in the mirror for the last time. Decent, I guess.

I went downstairs and there was Paul that was waiting me.

"Before going to the concert, we have to go in the pub nearby. We'll meet my band's friends."

"Ok, but don't talk for three hours like some lovely oldies..."

"Be quiet, you'll like them, they're funny lads."

"Paul, I don't give a damn! The ones that interest me are in the concert's place, not in the pub! I look forward to see in front of me that badass of Steve Jones..."

"Sophieee!! You're too little! He's my age! And he plays in the Pistols! You mustn't move to the competitor!"

"But I can't even express a positive comment on a boy older than me and that doesn't play in your band?!"

"NO!"

"Ball-breaker."

"C'mon, stop complaining! Let's go! We have to meet my friends!"

"Ok, let's go."

We left and after a fifteen-minute promenade we arrived at the pub. There were three guys that were smoking a cigarette against the wall. My brother was leading me there...