Zap! (M. Clifford/5SOS)

Chapter 4: Close As Strangers

No one says anything and Avalon releases us. The sound of chairs being rolled back echoes throughout the room as we collect our bags and head out. As usual, I'm walking with Michael back to our houses.

"So do you think you'll be chosen?" Michael asks me.

"Hell no," I answer. "I'm pretty sure Calypso hates me now for using the Execution Spell. Why would he pick me if I stepped out of line like that?"

"Yeah," Michael agrees. "I don't think I'm getting picked, either. Not that I mind it, though. It's a dangerous storm and I'd hate to be the one who has to stop it."

"Me, too. I kind of feel bad for the people who will be chosen. Like, you can die doing this! Who would want that?" I respond.

"Exactly! And I don't want to die!" Michael declares. "I've got a great life ahead of me with the band and everything. Speaking of that, we're having a rehearsal on Saturday before the gig on Sunday. You wanna come?"

"I don't know, Mikey," I groan.

"Please? You haven't even come to one yet and plus, we're rehearsing with our new drummer and we'd all like a little feedback," he begs. "Please?" He gives me his best puppy dog face and he knows I can't resist the puppy dog face.

"Okay, okay, fine, I'll come," I give in.

"Finally!" he smiles.

"But if your band sucks, I'm walking right out of there and never coming back," I remark.

"You wouldn't," Michael warns.

"Okay, maybe I wouldn't do that, but I will say that you guys suck," I reply.

"Trust me, you won't be disappointed," he says.

And that was true, for a few days later, I find myself in Michael's garage waiting for his bandmates to show up. Michael really went out of his way to create a band setup in his parents' garage, complete with microphones and amps. This stuff must have cost a fortune.

"Hey, Luke's here," Michael greets as the two of them walk into the garage. Luke nods at me sitting on a stool in front of the equipment and I return the gesture, him slinging his acoustic guitar around his shoulder and playing a few chords.

"So what song are we going to do first?" Luke asks.

"I think we should practice the songs that we're going to do with Ashton first," Michael answers. Luke puts down his acoustic and switches guitars, strapping on the electric.

"Awesome, I could use a little rock and roll right now," he comments and I laugh. He turns to me. "Why are you laughing?"

"Sorry, it's just the way you said it," I giggle.

"Oh, thanks, Monica," Luke replies. "I can always count on you giving us support."

"Hey, Michael told me I'm here for feedback, not support," I point out.

"You will be a supporter after we play," Luke states.

"Who's gonna be a supporter?" Calum inquires, stepping into the garage.

"Oh, hey, Cal," Michael greets.

"Monica will," Luke responds to Calum's question, looking directly at me. Calum follows his gaze and also glances at me.

"Yeah, you will," he says with certainty.

"So you think you're that good?" I ask.

"Well, we're not amazing, but we're not bad," Michael replies.

"That's the gig's job," Calum says.

"What?" I express, confused.

"The gig is going to tell us if we're on the right track. Like, are we good enough to make it? Do we need a little more practice before we book other gigs? Do we suck that much that nobody would hire us and we won't make it? That's what we want to know," Calum explains, logging on to Michael's laptop.