"Dude Looks Like a Lady"

Chapter 10 Semi Finals (Jake POV)

(Writer's Apologeese: 1. For the delay of this new chapter, as I was in Edinburgh for two days completely internet deprived and couldn't write it. 2. For my poor attempt at an Irish accent in this chapter. 3. For this being in Jake's POV and therefore hard to read. Good luck and I hope can manage to enjoy it! lol ^ ^ )

Chapter 10

Semi Finals

~Jake

God I wis brickin’ it. Usually I’m pretty confident and aw that but peeking out the curtains, there had tae be three thous’nd at least! And it wasnae our usual audience anymare. We were in Ireland, had tae take a flight, one af the judges delivered the tickets personally. Now, I didnae ken much about Ireland, except that it wis kinda similar to Scotland. What my primary school history teacher- or the granny fae the auld folks hame they brought in cause the school was so skint- taught me wis that us Scots were a bunch af barbaric flashers descended from some Irish guy called Scott who decided to move into "Caledonia" as it used to be called, with a bunch of his Irish mates. He told the Pictish guys living there at the time that cause he sat on some square rock that made him King and all the Pictish babes wanted to mate with him and his mates. Then somewhere along the line Vikings came in and did some raping and that’s how we ended up the messed up way we are now. Remembering, this wis what that auld loony told us and she also told us that the haggis is the national bird of Scotland. But long story short- Ireland is basically Scotland’s closest relative.

We were performing in the Odyssey Arena, which I never heard af before then. Nice modern building, right next tae ay big lake. I didnae ken what tae think af it, like. Bailey wis nearly jumping outta her skin with excitement, though.

‘Jake-cake! I’m sae excited!’ She pounced on me.

‘I’ve noticed.’ I laughed.

Bailey Drochit: blonde, sweet, dippit and the lead guitarist of Universal Ray Gun Epidemic.

‘Nervous?’ She whispered in ma ear.

‘Aye, s’pose so.’

‘Well, dinnae be.’ Jordan said.

I snorted. The contrast between his bloody thick rough voice against her smooth and thin one wis unreal.

I turned around and grinned, ‘Ye ain’t?’

‘Naw, canny be. Shaky hands makes a bad rhythm, ken?’

Jordan Black: slightly cuddly, black bearded, rosie cheeked rhythm guitarist.

‘Whatta ‘bout ye, Pluto?’

‘I’m tryin’ no tae think ‘bout it.’ She scratched the back af her bright blue hair.

Mira Winograd A.K.A Pluto: skinny, pale, strong as fuck and an epic drummer.

‘How does the other competition look?’ I nodded tae the other side af the stage.

Hidin’ in the shadows wis who I guessed were "Lazer Graffiti" since one af the bunch in the middle wore a T-shirt saying: "We are Cherry Arcade!"

‘Nae threat.’ She smiled.

Seven people, looked in their late twenties at least. Only one af them wis a girl.

The organiser af this round finished talkin’ with them and came over to us with a bright smile plastered on his face.

‘Urge!’ He called, ‘Ore do ya like to be called by yar full band name?’

‘Nah, Urge is fine.’ Pluto spoke for us.

‘Well Urge, yez ore an after Cherry Orcade bot before Lazore Graffiti.’ He nodded, ‘So break a leg and may the road rise up ta meet ya.’

‘Thanks?’ I raised a brow as he walked away, ‘Is there a road on stage?’ I turned tae the others, they just shrugged.