Galaxies Away

2.

My fingers were completely numb by the time we wrapped up the last song, but I didn't care. The rush I got on stage with my band was like nothing else in the world.

"Thank you for having us; we have been Exes. Good night!" Paula announced into the mic.

I watched the crowd, in the dark room, as they cheered and talked to one another. It was always so beautiful to be able to play your own music for a bunch of people that care enough about your art to pay for it.

I placed my guitar in its case, locked it up, and stepped off the stage. A few people came up and complimented me, telling me what a great job we did.

I always wished I had Paula's voice, melodic enough to be a lead singer and powerful enough to carry across a room. My voice was kind of hoarse and shaky, but I never minded it when I was just playing for myself.

Vick wrote the music for the group- well, most of it. Sometimes I wrote, too. He played bass, I played guitar, Andy was on drums, and Paula sand and played the keyboard.

The band and I finally made it through the crowd and stepped outside into the cool, night air. A few people were lingering outside, talking and smoking.

"What time is it?" Paula asked as she ties her black hair up into a bun.

Andy twisted his watch around on his wrist and studied it.

"9:48," he responded.

"Hotbox and pizza?" Vick suggested with a smirk.

"On me," Paula chimed, "let's go."

We all sauntered over to the parking lot and piled into Vick's car, me riding shotgun and the other two in the back, with my guitar in the trunk.

We took a short ride to Joe's Pizza and smoked in the parking lot while Andy recorded footage for some documentary he was making and we listened to Tame Impala.

I met Paula in my social science class my junior year when she was a senior at LCPA. I never thought I'd fit in at Lakewood Prep- I didn't live where most of the Lakewood kids lived, in a much nicer neighborhood than me.

But Paula was nice to me. One day she tapped me on the shoulder in class, told me to take my earbuds out, and asked me what I was listening to. I told her it was The Strokes, and she scooted her desk closer to mine.

She introduced me to Andy a few weeks later, when they started dating. I thought she was so cool for dating a college guy, but they broke up a couple of months later. We all stayed friends, though, and Andy introduced us to Vick, his roommate.

The summer before my senior year, we decided to start a band, and we became a family since then. I saw them almost every day, and I wouldn't have traded them for the world. We were all very different, but also pretty much the same in the best ways. We just wanted to live, appreciate life, and create art. I thought (and still think) they were the best bunch of friends in the world, even if they were all older than me and a little crazy.

When we were finished smoking, we got out of the car and headed toward the door of Joe's.

I looked around the parking lot and spotted a very familiar black Porsche Cayenne next to a big, white Chevy Silverado that I knew belonged to Paul Hastings.

Vick pulled open the door and let us inside, and we made our way to a booth in the back.

A tall, lanky waiter came up to us almost instantly and placed menus on the table.