Sassy // 5sauce

prologue ~ understatement

Sassy.

“How did you meet her?”

“That’s actually a pretty long story.”

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Prologue

On a Saturday night, my uncle came up with a great idea. My parents and their friends were having their ‘booze-up’, as my step-dad likes to call it. Not as if he really liked it, my mom just forced him to be there every week. My mom has this kind of compulsion to pretend she’s still 25. Everybody thinks she’s cool, I just think it’s really embarrassing. Not like she cares, of course, she just wants her delighted family to look overjoyed, for some reason. She hates it when I wear black, or listen to the music I like, because it’s all so dark. A year ago she even believed I was depressed so I was forced to follow a year of therapy, till my therapist finally convinced my mother I was totally fine, and that it was just my taste of clothing.

My band and I were trying hard to have a break through. We were even writing out own songs, and we had found a drummer, who was pretty weird, but we seemed to get along with him pretty well. He was a great drummer though, that’s only why he’s with us.

However, it wasn’t really looking up for us. We couldn’t afford a tour bus, or hotels, so we couldn’t give shows far from Sydney, which kind of sucked.

For some reason my mom decided that tonight I was going to join their booze-up. ‘I’d be good for me,’ she’d said. So I did, just because I didn’t want to piss my mom off. So while I sat there, trying to look as grumpy as possible so my mom would let me go back upstairs, she started bragging about that I was playing in a band, and how we were definitely going to be big, which all wasn’t true because we didn’t have any money.

So my uncle turned to me and said, ‘How much are you making?’ And I just honestly told him we weren’t making anything, because we spent most of the money we got on stuff we needed for the band. I also told him we were mostly touring around Sydney, because we couldn’t really go any further.

He asked me why and I told him we couldn’t afford a sleeping place. And he nodded, because I think he could understand that hotel prices sucked pretty badly.

They drank some more, my aunt was hysterically laughing about my step-dad jokes (I knew they liked each other, I even caught them having sex in the car) (traumatic.), when my uncle turned to me again.

‘Why don’t you sleep in host families?’

And I asked him what he meant with that, and he explained that it were normal families who would take care of you for less money than a hotel demands from you. So I told my mom I was going upstairs, on which she reacted quite pissed, and then called Michael.

A week later we were booked. Split over two host families, in Melbourne, and even got to play our biggest show in a few weeks.

Excitement would be a sarcastic understatement. 

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yay guys hi, new story. I had this lil idea where we keep the dude secret for a while so you guys can fantasize a bit. 

hope you like it, lub u gois bye