Never, not once in three years the boys had been living there, had the attic been cleaned. It was understandable, as no one had any clue the attic even existed. It was a small room in the ceiling on the second floor, accessible by a cord dangling above their heads. Assuming it was a cord to a light fixture, no one pulled it; the windows lining the hallways were enough. But when the band needed a spare place to store some instruments when the guest room got too full, Malcolm suggested they haul some equipment upstairs to the extra closet. Only an amp or two with spare snares here and there. Phil and Angus began to wish it were the small amps that were selected to be stored away, as the constant angle they held it against themselves proved worse than it looked when taken up twenty steep stairs.
"Jus' one step after another, eh?"
"Shuttup, Mal, or this one's on your head," Phil answered. The drummer's back was turned on Malcolm, luckily for both of them they couldn't see the faces they made each other. Angus adjusted his hold on the amp, his fingers underneath sliding slightly to the right, making the object tilt toward the banister, and caught at the last second. "Careful!"
"I'm bein' as careful as can be!" Phil shook his head and sighed.
"How many steps left, Cliff?" Malcolm stood in front of Cliff blocking his view, and counted the remaining obstacles himself.
"Mmm, about three for you, six for Ang."
"Is your name Cliff?"
"Jus' answering your question, Rudd, don't piss all over me," Malcolm defended. Bon slid a hand in his leather jacket, the other hand grabbing the cord on the ceiling. "We're movin' some drums o' yours up here too, and...I might just drop one."
"Hey, Mal, lay off of him," Bon said with a smirk on his face. His eyes were colored with humor. "Don't taunt a man with a heavy object an' your brother on the other end." Malcolm scoffed and leaned against the wall, tapping his fingers on the chipping paint.
"Yeah? He's gonna get after Ang for something I said?"
"Don't test him, Mal, he's giving me the evil eye," Angus said as he pushed the amp forward.
"Relax, the lot of you, I'm not gonna do anything." Phil took another step up the stairs, only one more left. As soon as he reached the top he made his way around the corner while Angus followed, finally setting the amp down on flat ground. Straightening himself out, he mumbled, "Not with an audience around me."
"Where's all this goin'?" Cliff asked, joining the group. "No way the closet's big enough for all we're puttin' in."
"If it can fit the five of us, it can fit a few bits and pieces." Malcolm surveyed the amp in front of him, both carriers glad of the break, however short Malcolm allowed it to be. He'd seen bigger, but perhaps it was someone else's turn to haul it a distance. "Alright," he said standing up. "Cliff, come here."
"We're done?" Phil asked out of surprise.
"For now, yes. Cliff, you grab that side..." With the same balance on either side as the last pair, the amp was leveled off between them and met the air again. Phil gladly stepped out of their way, standing beside a sore Angus with a smile. "Bon, open the door, would ya'?" The door to the closet was at the end of the hall, giving the men plenty of time for the following events to unfold.
"Alright, my turn to help out," Bon said leaning from the cord in his grasp. It seemed to support his weight well, and it didn't surprise him to see the hallway just as bright as it was that morning, for the lights on the second story were surely old and never replaced. When a pressing weight on his shoulders from behind knocked him forward, however, the shock was more than he could suppress.
