[DISCONTINUED/ON HIATUS]
❝you're toxic!❞
❝thanks, babe.❞
I do not own any of the music in this book! I'll be pretending that characters in this have written songs when in reality these are songs that already exist.
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oklahoma, 1969
-the hippie-
She had her guitar case slung across her back as she quietly shut the front door behind her. She heard the TV from the living room.
She walked to the staircase but paused when she saw her dad passed out on the couch, empty beer bottle hanging from his grip. An episode of Bewitched was on TV, the volume quieter but still audible.
Her dad was an alcoholic. He drank the pain away. He had no friends, no wife, a dead end job. Now, usually when people here alcoholic they think of screaming and hitting. They think of violence and chaos.
But Joan's dad didn't hit. He didn't yell. The poor man barely even spoke. He just drank until he was completely numb. Ever since Joan's mom passed away, it's all he did.
The only time he was ever loud was during his night terrors. They used to scare Joan, but by now they were normal.
It still gave her chills every time she heard him scream her mother's name in the middle of the night though.
Joan tiptoed over to where her dad had drank himself into a deep sleep and carefully plucked the empty bottle from his hand, placing it down on the coffee table. She put a blanket over him and left the TV on.
He could never stand silence. Joan had gained the same habit from him. She always had to have noise. Silence drove the both of them absolutely insane. Joan's mother however had been able to handle it well, she had been able to find peace in it.
Joan made her way upstairs, exhausted after a energetic night at the bar. As she slipped off her jeans and unbuttoned her shirt, she let her mind replay the events of the night.
She slipped on a pair of shorts, deciding it was much too hot for a shirt. She simply just decided to get in bed with just her bra. It's not like anyone would come in anyway.
She thought of the boy she had met. Ponyboy. He sure was interesting.
-
"You tell lies thinking I can't see! You can't cry, cause you're laughing at me!"
Joan groaned, her ears being filled with the blaring voice of... Paul McCartney and Lucy?
"I'm down! I'm really down!"
Joan's eyes fluttered open to see Lucy dancing around her room. Joan's record player was at full blast.
"What the hell, Lucy?" She whined, sitting up.
"You might want to put on a shirt. We're going out."
"Oh for God's sake, Lucy-"
"Hey, I don't wanna hear it! When you're not playing with the band you're cooped up in here. I'm sick of it."
