"Have you ever played before?" Her voice came out low and sultry unlike how she had been speaking earlier. The simple sentence and the way she said it made me almost think it holds a double meaning.
"No, I haven't." My voice came out breathless as...
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(2 1 y e a r o l d S t e v i e)
My brother enthusiastically rolled up the metal cover, "This is the garage!"
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The garage was where they held band practices. It wasn't a big space but it made do. It was cluttered with cords, instruments, and snacks. They rented out the space because, seeing as they were a group of 20-year-olds in a band, they clearly didn't have a lot of money.
My brother grabbed my arm pulling me to where the group was sitting, "Shitheads!" All heads turned to me, "This is Stevie our new lead singer and my sister"
He emphasized the last part to warn the group not to mess with me, honestly, if they did my brother would probably tear them to shreds one by one. Not that my brother and I got along perfectly but he still looked out for me.
The group was chilling in an assortment of odd things being used for chairs: a crate, an amp, a beanbag, and a swivel chair. The smell of smoke filled the room making me bite down a cough that threatened to escape my throat. I knew my brother smoked but I wasn't a big fan of the idea.
In the past month, they had probably auditioned over ten people to be the lead singer but none of them could ever agree on who to pick. The person would either be not hot enough, too annoying, not have the right sound, too shy, or shit like that.
Originally I had never planned on joining the band but when my brother called me asking if I could audition I couldn't turn down the offer. Before I joined the band I was going to a local community college, I was never great at school and wasn't a fan of the whole college experience either. So this was my perfect opportunity to actually do something fun with my life and start taking some risks.
"Hey what's up, baby..." A dark-haired boy was now very clearly checking me out.
My brother grabbed the boy with his elbow locking him in a chokehold and ruffled his hair, "This dickhead is Akira."
Akira was the bass player. I soon came to learn that he was a chick magnet and definitely what you would describe as the poster boy of fuck boy's. He met my brother, Miller, in college senior year. They hit it off immediately and used to jam together all the time.
