Sketch

Bonus Chapter

A/N - Ok, so I've been thinking about writing this for a while.  My plan is to eventually write a sequel to Sketch - from Michelle's point of view -  but I've been having trouble connecting with her character.  In Sketch, she was constantly the bad guy but she hasn't always been like that and I wanted to find a way to show that.  So I thought what better way than to write a little prequel that gives an insight into how she was before Sketch and before the bad blood between her and the band kicked in. So, if you don't like the idea of Sam and Michelle then maybe don't read on, but just remember - this was before Emmy ;)  I'd love to hear what you lovely people think.  Do you empathise with Michelle more now?  Or will you always dislike her? 

Thanks so much for reading :)

Also, shameless plug here.  I'd really love it if you'd check out my new story 'Being Memphis'.  I'm really enjoying writing it and I'm really interested in whether it's as good a read as Sketch.  Bare in mind, the characters are a little older and the storyline is different, but I've still included bands and music in it so if it sounds like your kind of thing then please check it out <3

                                                                               ***

                                                                              Sam.

"Sketch. S-k-e-t-c-h. S-kkkkk-etch."

I roll my eyes at Ollie. "Must you?"

Ollie blinks out of his look of deep concentration to turn to me, a sheepish smile on his face. "Sorry, it's just I've been thinking."

"You've been what? Using your brain." Vince laughs at his own joke, loud and cocky. He stands in his seat, addressing the rest of the bus with a flurry of his hands. "Quick, panic stations everyone."

An older lady sitting across from us lifts her eyebrows in interest but when Vince throws his head back in an obnoxious bout of laughter she tuts and looks back to her book.

I pull the strap of my college bag tighter towards me, feeling the heavy weight settle in my lap.

"I just meant, are we sure. On the band name, I mean. Sketch."

"I like it," I say, "and it's not like it matters what Vince thinks."

Don't get me wrong, I like Vince, but I barely know him. Sure, he's been friends with Ollie since they started secondary school but it's not like I've spent much time alone with him. They come as a pair, Ollie and Vince, and I'm not sure how Vince is going to react when he finds out that Ollie's harbouring a massive crush on Tandy Goldsmith. I can see him third wheeling dates without even realising he's being a pain in anyone's ass.

He comes across like that, I think. Arrogant and charming, but annoyingly likeable. Sometimes I find myself looking at him, wondering why I even agreed to let him in the band in the first place. Sure, it's not like it's going to go anywhere; Sketch is nothing but a new-born baby right now but letting someone like Vince babysit it doesn't seem like the best of ideas.

We walk the short distance from the bus stop to band practise, Ollie and Vince giving each other headlocks and throwing insults the whole way. To any bystanders, they probably look more like brothers than Ollie and I. Though there's only two years between us, there's a substantial difference when it comes to our places on the maturity scale. Maybe it's because, as the older brother, I'm the one who has to step up when our parents move away next year. They've been threatening it for a while; an early retirement abroad, but neither me or Ollie were expecting it quite so soon. As usual, we'd taken the news in two entirely different ways. I started worrying about money and jobs, and Ollie refused to acknowledge it at all. Maybe one day he'll start taking life seriously but until then I'm the one that's left in charge.