I'm so sorry about not updating for twenty million squillion years, I feel like a total cunt.
And I feel like even more of an asshole because it's a really short chapter and has a cliffhanger.
Muchas Gracias (I think...?)
(I really do feel like an ass though, because it pisses me off to no end when someone dosen't update their story and I'm a total hypocrite right now.)
After Taylor and I had our little pizza date I decided to go home and clean myself up cause I haven't had a fucking shower for days, and I want to try and get my mind off Nicki tonight by going partying with Chris.
God damn I'm a dumbass...
Why do I form emotional attachments to anything that fucking moves? I swear, I've barely even talked to her and it's so weird at Roswell now after I came onto her... I know she's beautiful but I think that's the only reason why I 'like' her!
I walked upstairs to the bathroom and stripped down, grabbing my towell off the dresser and throwing it over the door.
*10 minutes later*
I walked back to my room after having a nice steam. I really fucking needed it too...
*Phone rings*
Oh Jesus Christ...
"What's up Chris?"
"Nothing, just making sure we're still partying tonight."
"Yes. Now I'm a little bit naked right now so I'll meet you at Queenies at 8 okay?"
"Haha okay Dave, see ya later!"
Fucking jerkoff... Making fun of my nakedness... At least I gotta sweet ass!
I threw my towel to the corner of the room and grabbed a pair of black skinnies and a button-up black shirt.
Sufficient enough.
I went downstairs, chucked on some deodorant and checked the time.
7:23...
Shit... I need to go...
I got in my car and slammed the door, scratching my sideburns and jamming the key into ignition, not even bothering about putting music on.
A few fucking traffic lights later and I was here at Queenies, a small nightclub where all the rockstars and shit go to get pissed... Chris said we fit in perfectly, but that's just totall bullshit. I'm not a fucking rockstar, I'm just a normal guy who likes making music and just happens to be "famous".
8:11... Fuck I'm late.
After parking the car and all that shit, I walked over to the doors and Chris was standing there like an idiot with a cigarette and a stripper... I think...
"Hey Dave! What the fuck took so long man!?"
"Chill out... I was only 10 minutes late!" I said lighting up a cigarette of my own.
"Yeah well... Let's just try and enjoy ourselves tonight, eh?"
Hang on... Something isn't right with Chris... He's really nervous and has no chill...
YOU ARE READING
This Is A Call: A Dave Grohl Fanfiction
RandomDave is on a tumultuous downward spiral leading to drugs and destruction as a failed flame and unexpected attractions fall at his every step, possibly meeting the girl (or guy ;) of his dreams.
