The Kids From Yesterday ➸ Danger Days

four • the bands of zone three

"This is a terrible idea... We've never preformed for anyone before!" Kobra told Party as the two stood in the room with several different sets of instruments scattered around. However, the blonde had already picked up a bass and was tuning it. God, he missed bass.

"Yeah, but what else were we supposed to say? She was gonna castrate me on the spot if I didn't agree," Poison reminded his younger brother, sitting on one of the chairs and sighing.

"Who was gonna castrate you?" American Psycho was leaning against the doorframe, his face painted with half of the flag that was on the back of Jet's jacket. An American flag. He had a black leather jacket and a fedora most recognizably, though he was quick to take the hat off as he sat in the chair across from Party.

"Bulletproof Smile. None of us knew that we were gonna be preforming, but if I said no she was gonna castrate him," Kobra explained before his brother could sass Psycho.

"Oh, I completely get it then. She's one scary mofo," the new man said. Kobra and Party exchanged glances before shrugging it off.

"Aren't you American Psycho?"

"The one and only." Psycho winked at Party, who in turn shot the shorter Killjoy a slightly suggestive smirk. Kobra nearly gagged. American Psycho was somehow shorter than Fun Ghoul (nobody thought that was possible until now), though built in a fairly similar way... Just with less tattoos and piercings. "Anybody who's anybody can call me Patrick though."

"We aren't anybody-" Poison began to protest, quickly being cut off by Patrick.

"If you weren't, I wouldn't have bothered telling you." He shook his head, standing as if it never happened. "Well, do you have a name for your band yet?"

"We don't even have a drummer," Kobra admitted, running his finger along the strings to test how they sounded.

"I'm sure Novocaine wouldn't mind playing for you guys as well. He would never stop playing if it were possible," Psycho suggested. "Say, what are your names? I'm sorry for being so rude." American Psycho was either trying to be mature and adult like the two brothers were, or he naturally had a stick up his ass. Kobra figured it was the latter.

"I'm Party Poison and that's the Kobra Kid."

"Hi." Kobra didn't bother to look up from his bass.

"Oh God, really?!" Psycho jumped up, startling the two brothers. "Are Fun Ghoul and Jet Star here?! Oh, wow, I can't believe I didn't recognize you sooner-" Kobra cut off Psycho. Okay, I was wrong. He's completely immature...like us. Kobra's thoughts echoed, bringing out a slight smirk as he spoke.

"Calm down, man. Like we said, we aren't anybody. Just a bunch of friends stirring up the shit with Better Living."

"You aren't not anybody," Psycho argued, taking a deep breath to calm himself. "Okay, I'm good now. Sorry about that."

"No, don't be. Frankly I wasn't aware anybody actually knew us," Party confessed.

"You'd be surprised. So! You guys need a name for your band." Only Psycho seemed to notice Hyper Transmission coming inside at first. However, when he started warming up his voice it was hard to miss him.

"Er... I don't know... What do you think?" Party asked Kobra, refraining from referring to him as 'baby bro' in front of these strangers. For that, Kobra was thankful.

"Uhm..." he mumbled, trying to think. "I'll give it some thought," Kobra mumbled again, wincing at the loudness of Hyper Transmission's voice. However, he had to admit it was good. Party didn't want to be discouraged, but the intensity and strength of it was a lot better than his.