I was chilling with my band in the garage. We were trying to come up with a new song. That's WAY harder than it sounds. It's insanely hard to imagine a new tune out of nowhere. So far we'd only written two songs in the history of our band, The Dabbers. And they were not huge hits. In fact, you can't even buy them anywhere. We didn't have the kind of money to buy CDs to burn and stuff, so the only way you could hear our two songs ("This One's For Harambe" and "School Sucks") was to pay us to perform live.
Our drummer, Jake Newman - who is also my best friend - had printed a bunch of posters at the beginning of the summer in hopes of getting The Dabbers a gig somewhere. He put our phone numbers up and everything. We had all helped him staple them to trees around the neighborhood and on telephone poles. But we only got one job: playing at a sixth-grade boy's twelfth birthday party.
It was a huge let-down; we had been hoping to be able to play at the amphitheater or a teen party or something. But no, we got to be the background music at a little kid's party where everyone kept asking us to play stupid Selena Gomez songs and stuff.
I wasn't ready to give up so easily, though. We had worked hard to form this band, and I actually wanted us to have a career. Not just a little fun playing music in the garage, like Mom and Dad thought. We just had to come up with a song that would blow people's minds.
Our bass player, Derek Birch,
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Las Pistolas
RomanceSean's rock band has been struggling...they only had one gig all summer. At a sixth-grade boy's birthday party. Life's looking pretty grim for Sean until a family moves in across the street. They're from Honduras, and they don't speak much English...
