Fame (h.s)

different sounds?

November 1972

I sat on the floor of Josh's garage and watched as all the idiots of our band began messing with each other. We rehearsed here since we got kicked out of the last place, apparently Billie's dad thinks our music is trash.

I was upset today because once again, our lead singer was late. I pushed my hair back and wrote down another lyric but was suddenly sat on by one of the guys landed on me. "Seriously where the fuck is Anthony!" I threw my notebook. "Every fucking day this idiot is late and I'm sick of it!"

"White's coming man, calm down, you know how he is." I shook my head throwing my sunglasses aside along with my cup shattering it and causing all the guys to turn their heads to me. I stood and looked at each one of the guys. "Will you calm your tits man, you're like a fucking psycho."

Anthony is our lead singer, we called him white because his choice of drug was cocaine. It was fucked up, I could admit that, but it made him a good performer. Although he was always late and high, he never sounded off. He gave our band its sound, no one had a voice like his.

Greg, or Pink as we called him, was our bass player. He was known as pink for his bright pink hair but actually when we were kids his mom accidentally died all of his school shirts pink and we never let him live it down.

Josh let him stay in the garage at his mom's house because Greg didn't have much family anymore.

We were his family. In fact, we were all each other's family.

"I'm gonna make a call," I told Josh walking out of his hot garage and through his yard towards the side door to the kitchen. Josh was young but he was the best drummer we've ever had, and we've had a few. There was Dan, Smith, and Kenny, he fucking hated our music.

He was just seventeen unlike the rest of us who were all twenty or like Greg, who was twenty-two. Josh's nickname was red, like his drum set. We wanted to give him nicknames like the rest of us and red just suited him.

Josh actually liked our music and would tell us it had that 'new wave' sound everyone in the clubs was talking about.

I picked up the telephone in the kitchen, turning the rotary dial until I heard the tone on the other side. The phone rang for a minute until I decided to give up just as Billie came in. "Who are you calling?" he stood by the door smoking a blunt while talking.

"Anthony, he hasn't answered in a few days and he knows we practice on Thursdays." Billie was named Green, for obvious reasons considering he smokes so much weed that sometimes I wasn't sure how he functioned. He played keyboard but dabbled in guitar. "I'm worried," I whispered.

"I'm sure he's fucking someone, ya know man, he's a cool dude but he's a whore." I shook my head as he laughed to himself and walked out of the kitchen with a drink. I followed going back into the garage.

"Alright if the asshole's not gonna show up when we have a gig in one of the biggest clubs in New York on New year's eve, then we practice without him." All the guys shrugged but I felt a hand on my back.

"You okay little boy blue?" Mitch was my best friend, he was the lead guitarist and the coolest guy I knew. Blue was my nickname, but there was a really fucked up meaning to it that I didn't like to share with anyone.

"We need to go talk to him, I've had enough of this shit." He nodded. "Ready I'll sing, on my count one, two, one two-"

"Joshua! Come help me put the groceries away muffin! You can play with your friends later!" The shrill voice of Josh's mom screamed.

He cursed. "Mom! Seriously!" We all laughed until we heard the clicking of her heels walk into the garage.

Josh's mom was hot, and damn did she wear those heels just right.

"Boys come help with the groceries, that's the deal if you're going to be playing your music in here." We all sighed setting down our stuff and going out to help.

Two days later and ten calls, there was no answer from Anthony. I decided to drive to Queens with Mitch and go look for him at his place. I pulled up and a woman walked by winking at me.

"Like what you see, baby? You can have it for the right price." I adjusted myself in my jeans and laughed.

"What, syphilis? I don't think so." She rolled her eyes and walked away. I walked up to his apartment building and reached his door, pounding on it. "Anthony you piece of shit, answer the door!" I banged on it harder causing Mitch to laugh.

"Just bust a hole already." He teased.

A door opened down the hall and a short bald man walked out. "Hey! You two, you know the punk that lives in here?" Mitch and I looked at each other and he gave us a dirty look. "Yeah, two long-haired hippies have to know that son of a bitch." I rolled my eyes.

"Don't be mad because we have hair." He gave me a dirty look and shook his head.

"Tell your buddy in there that he needs to pay rent, he's two weeks late." I looked at the door and back at the guy.

"You're the manager of the building?" He nodded. "So you like have the keys to this place no?" He looked at us and nodded pulling them out. He opened the door and told us to remind Anthony about the rent.

We walked in and looked around at his messy place, typical. "I don't think he's home." Mitch scrunched his nose. "It smells like shit in here." I nodded. "I'm gonna take a piss." I walked over to the window and opened it to let out some of the stink when I suddenly heard a loud scream from the bathroom. "What the fuck! Holy shit call the police!" I ran over to the bathroom and felt frozen in place.

Anthony sat against the wall in his bathroom with a needle nearby. Flies flew around his half naked body, pale as a ghost.

"Fuck." Our friend was dead.

Thanks for reading. Xx

-k