DRIVE LIKE I DO - m.h

5 - raughy is real

I tugged at my beanie, pulling it lower over my forehead to disguise some of the unruly curls escaping the woolly material as I trudged my way to Adam's. It was a dull, grey day and a light spittle of rain hit the ground as I stomped into the small puddles lining the pavement.

It was our first band practice and an unnecessarily nervous feeling began to bubble up in my chest. I had no reason to be nervous, we probably wouldn't even be playing any music today just thinking of band names and writing some lyrics.

I wiped my clammy palms on my jacket as the front door of the Hann household began to unlock. It felt like years but eventually an overly-chirpy Adam appeared at the front door, grabbing my arm immediately and dragging me towards the basement like excited puppy.

I walked down the creaky wooden steps, giving Ross and George a wave. We greeted and hugged each other and them I turned my body to face the small boy sitting on the far and of the musty couch. He looked nervous, his eyes enlarged and his thumbs twiddling subconsciously.

"Matty, meet John, John - Matty," Adam introduced us and we shook hands, and I told him that it was nice to meet him and all that shit. "He plays the um.. " Adam trailed off, "Sorry, what do you do again?"

"He plays the sax," Ross piped in, turning away from his conversation with George. He coughed and scratched his head, "I mean.. I think?"

"We used to live on the same lane, we were pretty, um, close." His tone was almost agitated as he finished his sentence, leaving me curious about the situation, however, upon noticing John flush a bright fuchsia colour so I decided to let it slide.

We had made some posters advertising for extra needed band members using felt tips and paint from the art room and hung them on all of the cork boards around the school, and a few around local coffee shops too. Apparently John had been picking up a carton of milk in 'Aunt Margarets' corner shop when our particularly eye-catching advertisement came of interest to him.

I plonked myself onto the couch beside George to give him a friendly hug, which resulted in a not-so-subtle eye roll from Adam. John played some jazzy tunes and after coming to the conclusion that we couldn't just sit eating biscuits for eternity, we decided to play some music.

Choosing between 'Rio' and 'Tainted Love' had proved to be a tough decision to make as a group, so we all immediately turned to John as our only option. He chose 'Rio', emulating a groan of annoyance from George which we all ignored, and I pushed a blank cassette tape into the recorder.

My feelings of fear and anxiety seemed to vanish as soon as I heard Ross and Adam pluck out the opening chords. I sang carelessly, enjoying the melody and atmosphere of the instruments around me.

I must have subconsciously shut my eyes whilst becoming engulfed in the music as when the song finished I heard the soft click of buttons being pressed, notifying me to open my eyes.

I saw Adam pull the tape out of his music player, scribbling on it with a sharpie before holding it up proudly for all to see. We all cheered in joy before heading off towards the shed to drink celebratory tea.
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Adam took a long gulp, turning around in his chair to face us all.

"We need a name." He announced.

The group of us nodded out heads in agreement as Ross tentatively raised his hand. We all glared at him to continue and he cleared his throat before speaking.

"I think that we have to sound unique, we're fucking indie you know?! I think that a name like 'Tropical Penguins" fits our aesthetic perfectly."

I choked on my tea and Adam placed his head, dramatically in his hands. John gazed at Ross, a look of approval painting his small face as if he were completely infatuated by the idea of us dressed as penguins, running across an equatorial beach.

I heard Adam mutter a 'Why is he like this?' underlying the sounds of George's ferocious laugh.

"He has a penguin kink." Adam announced bluntly, a smirk pulling from the corner of his pink lips.

Ross' face became a deep shade of red and he picked up one of theistic plotted patchwork pillows from his wooden chair flinging it at Adam causing tea to spill down the front of his school shirt.

"This is what happens when you're surrounded by horny toads." John groans, speaking his first full sentence of the evening.

"That should be our band name!" George gasped desperately for air, clutching his stomach, "horny toads."

"Shut the fuck up, you." I glared at him, trying to keep a serious expression but failing miserably.

He wrapped an arm around me as the room went silent once again, apart from the loud sound of Adam slurping his tea as he eyed up George and I cautiously as if to say 'but that's none of my business'. For once, I didn't really give a fuck, leaning over and pulling Adam into our hug. His body was stiff and tense at first, his shoulders scrunched up tightly but he became comfortable, cuddling into my shoulder.

"Maybe we shouldn't all be searching so hard for a band name," I said, speaking my mind, "I think if we don't look so hard, it will find its way to us."

Adam pulled away, stretching his arms and yawning dramatically. I shot him a questioning look and he shot one right back.

"What? I'm not cuddling with someone so pretentious."
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Devan and I rested in her room, the only thing preventing total silence being my copy of our track from earlier playing in her cassette box.

She sat upright in a dark velvet beanbag, her hands in her knees as she rested her chin in the palm of her hand. I gazed self-consciously at the tapestries and drawings which covered her damp walls, trying to avoid making eye contact whilst my singing voice boomed throughout the house.

The tape ended and we sat in silence for a couple of seconds. I made sudden eye contact with her, snapping me back to reality.

"I think," she started off slowly, "it's shit."

I felt a knife twist in my gut but nevertheless tried to remain strong. I didn't want to seem weak or as though I cared what she thought, as much as it bothered me.

"What's wrong with it?" I half shrieked in annoyance.

"Remaking someone else's art isn't art, to be a real band you need to make your own art."

I thought about her point for a moment, "Well, we need to practise first, get good you know?"

"No, to be honest, I don't know", she sassed, "If this is what you want to do then you won't care how shit you are, music is a form of expression and art and I feel like to be a cover band is like stealing and taking credit for others work."

She stood up and left the room leaving me to wade in my own thoughts and her words.
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IM SORRY THAT THIS IS SO SHORT BUT ILL BE UPDATING AGAIN TOMORROW I JIST REALLY WANTED TO GET SOMETHING UP FOR NOW. I DIDNT PROOF READ IT SO IF THERE ARE ANY GRAMMAR MISTAKES PLEASE CORRECT ME.

Also - new cover, how do u feel about it?

Also - this fic is so unintentionally gay, like can we just take a moment

THANKS FOR READING
Cher x