First! I DO NOT OWN HOLLYWOOD UNDEAD. Yes, they are a real band, and make amazing music! I am just using the songs and name! Second! I DO NOT OWN RICK RIORDIAN. All of his characters belong to him! Third! THIS IS MY STORY LINE. If you steal this story line, I will find you, and end you. Fourth! Song for this chapter, Knives and Pens by Black Veil Brides. Read on fellow humans!
I walk into the school and go to my locker. I see papers with unintelligible slurs, scrawled in sharpie. I take the papers off and ball them up. I toss them in the rubbish bin and open my locker. Taking out my notebook, I replace it with my songbook. I listen as the hall falls silent, signaling the entrance of Valdez and his goons. I pull my hoodie on and over my head, trying to not have new bruises. I pull my iPod out and put in my headphones, letting 'On Lost And Having' by Flobots fill my mind. I speed walk to my first class, pushing past make-up caked girls, and over muscly guys. I open the door to my music class and nod at Mr.Smith.
"Nico, may I talk to you for a moment?" He asks. I nod and he takes me into his office. "You haven't been in for a single performance day, and never sing or play an instrument. Why are you even in this class?" Smith asks, his English accent filling the room. I grab my note pad and scrawl out my answer.
I cannot sing in front of people, and you don't have electric guitars. I don't like acoustic.
"Nico! Why can't you sing in front of others?" He snaps. 'Because I'm in a pretty well known band and I don't like fans' I think. I shrug and go to the door, waving him goodbye. I walk over to the other members of my band and fist bump Octavian. Connor and Travis tackle me in a hug and kiss my cheeks because the twins are very affectionate. I push them off me and they laugh, lying on the ground. I nod at Malcolm and pat his shoulder.
These are the guys. I toss a small stuffed animal to Octavian. "It's the only Collectible Beanie baby I don't have!" He squeals. Malcolm furrows his eyebrows and looks at me. I quickly translate for the italian boy. Mr.Smith walks with a black and orange electric guitar. "Nico, you may have this guitar and an amp, IF you perform tomorrow." He says, holding her for me to take. My eyes widen and I nod rapidly. Smith smiles and I start to tune the guitar.
"Are you really gonna perform?!" Travis asks, grinning from ear to ear. I nod and grab a small amp, walking out to the practice room the guys and I use. I plug in the amp and set our stuff up. "Okay! We need to polish up Comin' In Hot and Bullet by the end of the hour!" I say, looking at the guys. Connor starts the beat, then taps hit sticks together. "One, Two, ONE TWO THREE FOUR." He shouts. I start. "If you got jack in your cup go raise it up, go raise it up, go raise it up. If you ain't got enough go fill it up, go fill it up go fill it up." I pause. "I'm gonna chase this whiskey with patron, I want a girl on my lap and a jagerbomb. I'm coming in hot ya heard me, and I'ma make it rain on the girl who serves me. I drink a fifth of vodka 'till it's gone, and it it feel so good then it can't be wrong. I'm coming in hot you heard me, and we be takin' shots and if not you nerdy.
"We only leave a clean party to go party some more, I'm already shitfaced before I walk in the door. This girl's rubbin' on my leg, I never met her before, And now she's makin' her way onto my gentleman's sword " I sing. "It might be the drugs talkin' or the shots of Patron. But these bitches look like models and they're ready to bone. I take 'em back to my parents house and we'll be home alone. Slap some chicks and have em yellin' like Macaulay Culkin."
"She's tearin' it up, yeah she's dancin' her ass off
This girl's like a Mac the way she's ridin' my laptop
I'm tryin' to get my rocks off so don't try to cockblock
I'll grab my sawed-off and blow your cock off
You know we drink so much, we gettin' drunk for weeks
We drink so much Goose, we turnin' into geese
Me and my crew slidin' in through VIP
These bitches play my skin flute like they're Kenny G"
YOU ARE READING
Nico DiAngelo. The emo gay outcast. No one likes him except the other outcasts. Often shoved into lockers, and has his stuff stolen. Ghost King. The lead vocalist in the popular band Hollywood Undead. Never takes his mask off, because how would his...