- "Sex, drugs, and rock n' roll, man"
The year was 1980. Liv was a L.A. high school graduate who turned down her future for music. Her band split up and she was looking out for a unique one who was looking for a guitar player. She was ready a...
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- February 3rd, 1980
~Nikki "Woah, woah, woah! What the fuck, man?" I look at the guy in disgust, like my ears are bleeding. Which they probably fucking are because this guy sucks so bad. "That's not at all what I showed you." The blonde wiped his forehead with his back hand, as he was sweating uncontrollably.
"Well it's not like anything I've played before." He chuckled nervously. Is this guy serious? "That's the fucking point man." I roll my eyes over at Tommy, who is giving him a look. "Let's take a break. Tommy outside!" I yell as the drummer shuts the door to the patio behind us.
"I'm not feelin' it dude." I shake my head. There's no way we are letting this guy be our guitarist. "Trust me, it'll sound better once we got a lead." He takes a drag of his cigarette and I shake his head. Is he seriously considering letting him in our fucking band?
I was about to argue when a light blue 70s Ford pulls up, blaring Zeppelin, slamming on the brakes in front of the apartment. I take my sunglasses off and my heart almost jumps out my chest when I realize who it is. "You gotta be shitting me." It was her.
~ Liv I pull up to a run-down looking apartment and put my truck in park. I had sent out a description in the paper a few weeks back, looking for a new band:
LOUD RUDE AGGRESSIVE GUITARIST NO B.S. RECORD CARD AND VOCAL ABILITY CALL 555 - 0121
A guy called my place about applying for his band when I wasn't home, so Bev answered for me. They also needed a lead singer, but my voice would never do. Anxiety washed over me, wondering what they'll think when a girl comes in to audition to play guitar for them. Hell, they might think it's some damn sick joke.
I get out the car and look up to two dudes on their patio looking down on me. One reveals his eyes behind his shades and I feel a lump in my throat. It was Nikki. The flirty punk I met back at the record store. Shit I don't want to embarrass myself, but fuck it, I'm here for me.
The taller one I wasn't familiar with races down the stairs to help me with my amp. "What's a girl like you doin here?" He gives me a dorky grin, already trying to flirt with me. He was a lil taller than Nikki, with longer brown hair, and for some reason appealed to me as a lil kid almost.
"What's that suppose to mean." I glare at him waiting for a idiotic answer. "Well it's just didn't think a girl would audition for us." He looks me up and down with a smirk. "What can I say, I like to jam." I roll my eyes and grab one end of my amp.
"A little help!" He stops staring at me and realizes me struggling. "Sorry dude!" His eyes go wide and he grabs the other end. "Name's Tommy, that's Nikki." He says motioning to the other tall punk, as we walk past each other. Our eyes held a gaze for a short moment and I glance into his bright green eyes. He smirks and goes down the stairs to my truck to grab my guitar for me.
