Secondhand Girlfriend

.36

"Nothing like the sound of Fall Out Boy in the morning," Crystal laughs, ending the last cord of Immortals.

The rest of us laugh along with her, and I wipe the sweat off of my forehead. It's our third week of band practice, and our sound is coming together really well. Although what we're doing is mostly covers, we don't sound bad. In the beginning it was just Crystal and I, but then Dane joined us a couple days later and became our bassist. We kept practice going from there until one day, the three of us were sitting in Wyatt's bakery, and a guy with dirty blond hair over heard us talking about needing a drummer. He came over to us, told us his name, and ever since then Jack has been our drummer.

"Those are words to live by," I smile, sitting down on the brown suede couch.

"Which is why they are always first up for practice," Jack comments, taking a long drink from his water bottle.

Crystal comes to sit next to me as she removes her guitar strap from her shoulder, sitting the stringed instrument on her lap. Dane goes inside the house, and I try to let my adrenalin go down to a normal level. I never knew it felt so good to sing, not just quietly to myself or in the shower, but sing out loud and with a band to back me up. We haven't even performed in front of a crowd yet, but I still feel this rush from just practicing the music.

Reaching up to my chest, I wrap my fingers around my necklace pendant and let the energy flow into it. As I continue to hold the cool stone in my hand, my thoughts drift to Porcelain and what she could be doing right now. It's been nearly two months since I've seen her, and being away from her isn't getting any easier. My sleep pattern is just as fucked up as ever, but I'm getting more sleep now than I was two weeks ago. Slowly, I uncurl my fingers from the stone and run my fingers through my hair.

"Hey, Kie, what's that thing around your neck anyways," Crystal asks, strumming her guitar softly.

"Are you blind, because it's obvious what this 'thing' is," I snap back playfully.

"I literally have my glasses on right now, and you're asking me if I'm blind? You clearly know the answer to that, now what the hell is it?"

"It's an obsidian tooth, my mother got if for me when I was younger."

She nods her head in some type of understanding, and continues to play with her guitar. Dane emerges from the house again with three bottles of water, and I gladly accept one as he holds it out to me. I thank him as he hand one to Crystal, then he pulls up a metal chair to sit next to the couch. Jack joins us shortly after, and we sit in a small circle of silence. After a moment goes by, Crystal speaks up.

"That could be our band name," she exclaims, and we all look at her with confusion on our faces. This makes her explain what she means. "Obsidian Tooth, how punk rock would that be?!"

"More like metal, and we aren't metal. We aren't even punk rock," Dane snorts, sipping from his water bottle.

"I don't see you coming up with a name."

"I did and you shot it down, Dane and the Dweebs is a wonderful name."

"No it isn't," everyone choruses, and he just rolls his eyes.

"We need a name that fits us, something that tells who we are," Jack chimes, scooting forward to sit on the edge of his chair. "It definitely has to fit our sound as well."

"We don't even have our own music yet, but we have sound?"

"And what exactly is our sound?"

"Our sound, well it's like Ed Sheeran's and Nirvana's music met up at a Woodstock, went back to a run down Motel 6, and made love in a shitty hotel room."