Bandsexual [Kellic and Cashby]

Chapter 7

Vic's POV

THIS PARTY IS GONNA ROCK.

lll tell you this straight, im gonna get drunk, im gonna listen to some good music, im gonna chat up some attractive people and im going to try and pull.

I have no problem picking what im going to wear, because its allways the same; black skinny jeans, black beanie, black vans and a band shirt. I think tonight ill go with a Slayer shirt.

Not very many people are appreciative of good music, I know that for a fact. People these days listen to Brittany Spears or some shit, and think that Blink-182 and Simple Plan are death core satanic ritual tear-my-face-off-and-sacrifice-half-the-population-of-chicago-to-the-devil kind of music. Bullshit.

I sauntered down the hallway and cocked open my brothers door, "Mike? are you ready?" I asked, knowing full well that he would be.

"uh-huh" I heard him grunt from over by his mirror.

We weren't the most well off family, but we got by. Our house wasn't out of the ordinary,  and we didn't have a hot tub in our garden, but we had running water, food, and a family that looked out for eachother.

Mike ventured out of his man cave and peered at me, "how does it feel to be smaller than your younger brother" he teased, thumping me softly in the shoulder.

It wasnt like I CHOSE to be short.

Mike cleared his throat, breaking the silence, "Im gonna crash at Jaime's tonight, so you have the house to yourself" he then cast a glance in the direction of my bedroom, "be safe bro, and uh, ill be back around 11am"

"okay.. whatever that means..."

Mike grinned, and then began counting backwards from 5.

4.

3.

2.

1.

We both sprinted down the stairs. Last one to the bottom had to lock up, winner got to drive. We played this game everytime we went out together, well, apart from school, and it had become a kind of tradition.

Like usual, i lost, courtesy of having short legs.

I climbed into Mike's jet black Jeep and started to fiddle with the radio. There was no decent music on any of the stations so I flicked through his CD collection, feeling a tiny bit better when my fingers came into contact with my ever so loved Foo Fighters disk, and I lost myself in the outside world for just a little while.

Before I had realized, the engine had come to a stop and we were outside Austin's house. I'd been here many times before, but his time I was more exited about it, and I think I knew why.

Music blared from the sterio system, and assuleted my ears from he second I crossed the threshold into the Carlile residence. This wasnt Austin's usual type of music, it was actually my usual type of music.

Was Austin having some form of mental breakdown? "Jocks" weren't supposed to be Into metal, they were supposed to be into backstreet boys or whatever the fuck jocks listen to.

But if this was a new side to Austin, then I liked it.