Only in Dreams

In the Garage

    I’ve always hated roommates. There always had to be at least one disastorous flaw in them. Like they’re extremly messy, they’re extremly rude, or they’re always bringing someone over to either bang or stay up until late at night chatting, keeping you from studying for you chem test that your entire GPA and future jobs rested on. I’ve always had the worst experiences with them, and it all started during my Freshman year of High School when my parents left me at an old friends place so that they could travel the world. My parents were surgeons, famous ones too, known all around for saving the lives of many, but I knew that the only reason that they gained the fame was from saving one big media hot shot and then proceeded to get their faces plastered all over the internet labeling them as ‘Heros’. Then they were given an oppurtunity to travel the world with some billionare and my parents being human and somewhat uncaring of my well being, they took up the offer. They left me at this home hoping that me and the snob only child of this generic white family home would get along. It wasn’t completly bad though, we got along okay but there child, Kyle was a slob, his room, which we shared, was never cleaned, and he was always getting into trouble, leaving his poor mother, an angel in human skin, to try and get him to behave. It never worked. It stayed this way until my Senior year when my parents returned. They came back acting as if they’d never left, leaving me salty and wanting to move out. So I did, but me leaving meant that I had no money and no job, but what I did have was friends. Me and a close friend got together and decided that we’d both get jobs and split the rent. To me this was the decision of a life time and I was ready to commit, but oh how I was wrong. The first week went well, me and my friend Blake got along relativly well, our schedules provided us both room to breathe and gave us a break from having to deal with one another. The rent was also no big deal and I didn’t struggle with reminding him to pay it. That was when his major flaw began to surface. He was not only a slob but a player as well, every night he would bring home some hotty and they would spend the night doing certain activities keeping me up at night and wishing that I could cleanse my ears. That wasn’t all that started to go south, he slowly became a jerk, always making snarky comments and full on dissing me. I hated him. Work became my safe haven and school was my only want.
    School I noticed was coming towards an end and my teachers were pestering me to find a nice college and constantly asking me what my passion or dream job was. My teachers had also assumed that because my parents were such great surgeons that now my only dream and goal was to also be a surgeon. I hated my parents so that was the last thing that I wanted to do. Instead my dreams lied in the arts. I had rathered enjoyed two acitvities in school which were Art class and music class, Art class was to say the least amazing and I always enjoyed being able to snatch up a charocoal pencil and allow it to glide across the canvas making strokes here and there and actually creating something. It was liberating, I also found creating music just as free, I had a strong connection to guitar and started a small band during my Sophomore year. My parents and my 'familly' weren't too pleased about this, but still allowed me to go out on Friday nights to Jakes garage and play something. My friend Jake, or who we call the dumb ass of the group, was the one who came up the idea of becoming a band with me and two of my other friends, Joey and Josh. We had all been apart of the same music class and we all shared a love of rock and grundge. Jake played the drums, which I thought matched his wild personnality. Joey, played the bass, I played guitar, and Josh wrote the lyrics and chords.
    None of our songs had been recorded but we still managed to garner an audience with help from Joey, who was rather popular. Joey was tall, smart, and handsome. So he had quite the enterage wherever he went, so everytime we played a small group of people would attend, get drunk, flirt, dance, and leave. It wasn't much but it was special.
    One main problem with our band though was the lack of a singer. None of us voice changing puberty boys could sing, despite grundge and rock being relativly easy to sing due to the voice not needing any kind of tuning relying on the feeling of the lyrics to get through. Josh our lyricist had tried to learn to sing so for the meantime had taken that mantle but we all knew that when we found a singer, that mantle would be taken away.
    Josh had also decided that we all should attend the same University, so that we could continue to make music and maybe one day hit it big. We all were suprisingly keen on the idea and had planned to all stay in one big studio, but Jake broke up that idea claiming that if we all lived together, our bad habits would cause extreme angst and we would break up soon after. I agreed. So we all found different living spaces, Jake stayed at his house which was close to the University, Josh also moved in with a roommate, and Joey moved in with his girlfriend. I had been planning on staying in the dorms so I was also rooming in with another person. Me and my previous roommate got into a big fight, after I had had enough of his shit and slugged him. He moved in with his girl and I signed up for a dorm.
    Today I began the move into my dorm, I had all my belongings packed and stuffed into eight boxes. I had asked for help from my band mates and they all came to help move my boxes into the dorm. The process was relativly easy but left us all sweaty and panting on the floor as the ninety degree weather had burnt us to a crisp. Jake had found the AC and now stood on top my roommates bed allowing direct access to the AC hit his face. Joey sat by the window in the very middle of the room and let the wind whisp his hair, while Josh and I sat in front of a plug in fan that Jake's father gave with knowledge of how bad the summer gets in the dorms. After lounging around I found a small portion of energy to begin unpacking my boxes. I soon got the boys to help and after a while all the boxes were folded against by bed.
"So, do you know who your roommate is?" Joey still sitting by the window spared me a glance and I softly lifted my shoulders.
"No, I have no clue, the desk wouldn't tell me anything so I'm just waiting until they come to unpack." Joey nodded and turned to stick his head out the window.
    Jake groaned and pressed his face farther into the AC unit, probably leaving a mark.
"Do you know if there's any hot girls here?" My ears perked at this.
"I was told that there were a few hotties in the music class, but I also got word that they're a couple o' bitches." I groaned and Josh laughed.
"Did you find anything else out?" Joey nodded.
"I heard that the art teacher recruits a couple of relativly cute girls for the nude drawings." Jake whisteled and I chuckled. "So get on that Brock."
I gave him a mock salute and smiled.
    Jake and Josh left not too long after, leaving Joey and I alone in the room. We had bought a twenty four pack of beer and were now chugging them back. The two of us had made a pact to always drink together, for we could both hold our liqour. Jake and Josh were big drunk dumb assses, Joey and I had both gotten our fair share of dealing with them while drunk and decided that we didn't want to deal with that.
"How've your parents been?" Joey shrugged.
"Mom's been doing better, with the kemo stuff, ya know." I nodded.
"That's good,...how's Martha been?" Joey motioned a tired ok with his hands and allowed his hand to fall on the table by his head.
"She's been rather nervous about this whole college thing."
"Oh? And why's that?" He rolled his eyes.
"Scared I'm gonna cheat." I chuckled.
"Well you don't have the cleanest dating history." He nodded. "True."
"What 'bout you?"
"Me?" He nodded. "When you getting a girlfriend?"
"No time soon." He glared at me.
"Come one Brock you need a girl okay? You can't live around men this long you need a pretty girl with some big boobs to take care of you. What's your type anyway?" I shrugged.
    I had never put much thought into girls, not to say that I didn't like them, it was more like they only took up the recess of my mind. I chose to focus on art and guitar compared to girls.
"Well, I'm just saying that it would do you some good to find someone to show you a good time."
    I nodded, because I agree, that would be nice, it had been way to long since I got it on with someone.
"Imma head out, Martha's probably waiting." I waved.
"Tell her I say hi." He smiled and headed out the door leaving me to clean up and climb into my bed.
I layed in my bed until around one in the morning listening to tape recordings of old grundge bands. I had fall asleep but was abruptly awoken by loud yelling outside the building below the window. I got up and stuck my head out the window to see a fight going on. The fight seemed to be going on between the University security and a girl. She was yelling and swinging her fist around and the security tried to reason with her. I caught only small snippets of the rant and watched as one of the guards came to snatch her but was met with a fist in the face. The guard stumbled back and she glared at him and prepared to fight the other man. He slowly stalked towards her and she barely had the time to swing when the sound of police sirens caught her attention and the guard tackled her. She yelled and squirmed trying to punch him, but failed. She had been tackled from the front and had managed to kick him in the groin leaving him to fall on the ground in pain. The crowd around them had began a chorus of 'oof' and cheers. She smirked and turned to walk inside the building leaving the guards to stumble after her.
    I laughed and wondered about the poor soul who would be her roommate and what that would be like. I imagined that if she was stuck with some normal girl, that would be funny, she'd probably abuse the poor girl. I shut the window and went to lay back down. I sat there for a second until the sound of knocking caused me to stand. I opened the door and peaked outside.
    Outside my door stood the police and the very disgruntled woman who had just caused a fight outside my window. I opened my door and the police man holding her by the arm stepped forward. She was adorning a bruised cheek and a bloody nose glaring intensly at the floor. Probably mad that she got caught.
"Can I help you?" The man nodded and threw her to the side.
"Miss Jobs here, is your roommate, so please get along."
    My mouth went dry, she, she was my roommate, I was the poor soul that was her roommate. Oh Hell Nah.