Raw Boned Psalms (An MM fanfic)

Thrift

"Hurry up, Toby!" I screamed.
"I'm trying!" He screamed back.
"Just let me drive!" I screamed at him. He shook his head.
"I'm not letting YOU drive,"
"Why not?"
"You don't have a license!" He flicked his blinker on.
"I don't need a piece of paper with plastic over it and a picture of my face on it to prove I know how to drive!" I forced Toby to stop driving, and pull over.
"Thank you," I climbed into the drivers seat. I pressed my foot on the pedal as hard as it would go, until the tip of my shoes touched the floor.
"Slow down!" Freddy screamed. We were going 80, and the speed limit was 20, since we're in a school zone right now. I laughed and lifted my foot up. We slowed down, almost crashing into a navy blue Mercedes.
"Good news is, we're going to get to the venue a lot quicker now!" Pogo laughed. Twiggy, Jeordie's new nickname, was sitting in the corner of the bus, cradling a stuffed rabbit to his chest. Daisy was frantically pacing back and forth. Pogo was sipping whisky, leaning his back on the window. Freddy was in the bathroom, getting ready.
"Where's Toby?" I asked, pressing my foot on the pedal. All four of them pointed to the storage closet, where nobody ever goes. I can't remember the last time anybody has ever set foot in there, let alone clean the cobwebs out of it. I nodded slowly, and cautiously removed my foot from the gas pedal. We made it to the venue a lot quicker than we would have if Toby was driving us. All five of us crammed into the tiny bathroom, trying the get ready as fast as we could. Freddy was finished before anybody else. He was wearing a blue and white striped T-shirt with the same black and white jogging shorts with his infamous brown strap on sandals. I was wearing a baggy "Marilyn Manson & The Spooky Kids" T-shirt and my black jeans with black boots. Pogo was wearing red jeans, a black trench coat, and platform boots. Pogo never usually wears platform boots. Twiggy was wearing a reddish-orangish shirt, black skinny jeans, and blacks boots with paint splotches all over them. He had Vaseline in his frizzy hair.
"Jeordie, why do you have Vaseline in your hair? You look like a hobo," Toby came out of the storage closet.
"Pogo told me I should have dreads," he said. I smiled, on the verge of laughing. I poked my elbow into Pogo's side. Pogo is always playing tricks, or getting people into trouble. I beamed and rolled my eyes, walking to the back of the bus to get our instruments.
"Where's all our crap?" I asked.
"It's in the storage closet. What did you THINK I was doing in there?" Toby said, pointing to the closet. I shrugged and slid my feet across to floor to get our stuff.
"Well, my keyboardless keyboardist, here is your cage," I handed Pogo his cage. Since he's saving money to afford a keyboard, he carries a cage on stage full of random things, mainly just to entertain the crowd. I handed Jeordie one of Gidget's old basses, a black, shiny bass. I gave Daisy his green guitar, and Freddy would have drums set up inside.
"Good, we're all set," I smiled. I can't wait to hear Jeordie play. I grabbed a spare microphone stand, since I tend to smash them to pieces. We began heading out the door. As soon as we stepped outside there were crazed fans being held back by two bodyguards. I waved and threw a water bottle at them. We walked down the streets, probably seeming like a satanic goth gang. Once we got to the venue, the people literally asked to see my id. I gave it to them, and walked in between to two buff bodyguards. They held my arms, until the lady handed me my id back.
"Please stay behind this rope," she motioned to a green rope connected to the building. "The police will be here in a moment to speak with you,"
"What did I do?!" I screamed.
"Fraud. You have a fake id, with the name Brian Warner on it," I tried to face palm, but my arms were being held so tight I couldn't move. Is she fucking around or being serious? We're almost late to our show, and I don't need this bullshit right now.
"Because I AM Brian Warner!" I yelled. I grit my teeth, since the bodyguards were about to rip my arms off.
"We will need to have your fingerprint," I screamed in frustration, slipping my arms from the bodyguards. I wrapped my hands in my hair.
"Do you not see this whole band behind me? Do you think ALL of us would fake this? Seriously, goddamn, woman!" I yelled. I pointed behind me at Twiggy, who was staring in confusion, his eyebrows knitted together, Pogo, who was holding the inside of his cage, Freddy, who was wrapping his arms around himself, and Daisy who was pulling at his jeans and cuddling his guitar.
"Since when did The Spooky Kids have a different bassist?" She motioned to Jeordie. I face-palmed and sighed.
"Since we kicked Brad out," I said through my teeth. She rolled around in her chair, pressing buttons and whispering things into the phone.
"You may come inside," she said, I nodded slowly, and opened the double doors, holding my microphone stand. Toby came out from backstage, a worried expression on his face.
"What took you guys so long?" He questioned.
"The lady thought we weren't the real people," Pogo shoved his cage onto the stage before climbing onto it.
"You do realize there's steps leading up to the stage right, Stephen?" Fred said. Pogo nodded and dragged the metal square to the corner of the stage, where he often is. Twiggy took the stage next to me. I set up my microphone. Fred sauntered to the corner where his drums were already set up at. Daisy stood next to Freddy. We ran through a couple songs before beginning, just to check our equipment. Then the crowd piled in. I nodded my head toward all of them and whispered "Negative Three" they smiled and nodded back.

"I don't know what you see," I paused and looked at the front row. "In my negativity.. Your touch won't begin to satisfy my NEEDS," I tilted the microphone stand backwards. A thin man with blonde hair hanging to his shoulders jumped on stage and dived off. He did it two more times. After the song ended I lifted the microphone up.
"Come back up here one more time and I'll rape you!" I shouted. He jumped back and the people who he landed on punched him in the face. I smiled and leaned back to whisper "Thrift" to all of them. Twiggy flipped his pages around until he found Thrift. Twiggy needed the papers since he hadn't practiced. We should've been more prepared, but it was on short notice.

After the show, we were walking to bus and nearly got attacked by fans. They ripped my shirt off, and I walked away half naked with the right side of my jeans split open. We piled into the bus and locked the door, fans banging on the door. We laid either on our bunks or couches. Twiggy's shirt was shredded, his boots sliced. Pogo's trench coat was missing and Freddy's watch was missing. Daisy was perfectly fine, despite his hair. I sighed and shut my eyes.
"That was a heck of a show!" Pogo said.
"And heck of an 'after party'!" Twiggy said, fiddling with his shredded orange-red shirt. Pogo fell asleep on the couch, his legs over my lap. I put a pillow over my head and fell asleep.

I sat up and glanced at the clock. It was 8:37 A.M. and nobody was awake yet. Well, to be honest, I don't think anybody was even on the bus. Where were they? I turned my phone on and sad that I had 37 missed calls from Fred, 28 from Pogo, 90 from Jeordie, and 18 from Daisy. What was going on?

"Toby?" I said. "Toby, are you here?" I repeated. Toby opened the bathroom door, smoke pouring out after him. Huh.
"Hey, Brian," he said, wobbling around.
"Hey, where did the guys go?"
"The whisky bar, I think," I nodded and showed him all my missed calls. His eyes widened and he ran back into the closet, slamming the door behind him.

"Toby?" I banged my fists on the door. "Toby? Are you okay?" I hit it harder. I took the key off the top of door and unlocked the door. I opened the door and saw Toby sitting there with Brad. When did Brad get here? He would've have to fly to the venue and get on the bus. I wonder how long that took.

"Brad?" I said, I stood there frozen with my mouth dropping down to the floor. He nodded and I slammed the door in their faces right before they got up to comfort me. I don't need their help.