Crystal Gazing

Possibly Actual First Chapter

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" I thought as I ran down the sidewalk to Mikey's house. 

This week, I've been late a total of three times, and if I show up late the one time I'm supposed to meet new people, there's about a 67% chance I'll be decapitated with a bass guitar. I continue sprinting as fast as I can, coffees in hand, guitar slung around my shoulder. Right before I reach the front porch, I trip on the sidewalk and fall flat on my stomach, coffees exploding, spilling on everything within a 50-mile radius.

"Fuck fuck fuck fuck fuck!" I think for the second time today. 

I'm picking up the remains of what was two lattes when a voice asks me:

"Hey, I saw you fall, are you alright man? Looks like you hit the ground pretty hard."

When I look up, I see a figure in black skinny jeans, a loose t-shirt, and a leather jacket, with greasy hair faintly dyed teal at the roots. 

"I think I'd be better if my coffee was in a cup rather than on the ground, but otherwise I'm fine."

He grins and reaches his hand to help me up.

"I'm Gerard, Mikey's brother!" 

"Frank." I smile as I pick myself off the ground. "I'm supposed to come over to practice?"

"Ah yeah, of course!" His smile falters when he takes a glance at my chest.

I look down at my shirt, and naturally, there is a gigantic brown stain covering the entire front. Perfect. 

"I bet Mikey or I will have an extra, don't worry about it." He smiles again, and I can't help but smile back.

We walk into their house, and Mikey, sitting impatiently on the counter like a mom waiting for her teenage daughter to get home, is quick to point out the obvious.

"Dude, it looks likes you got sucked into a Starbucks mosh pit!" He burst out in laughter at his very funny joke.

I greatly appreciate jokes at my own expense, but now is not the time.

"C'mon, get me something to wear," I whine.

Mikey rolls his eyes but nevertheless, gets up to grab me another shirt.

Gerard and I are left alone, standing by the front door. I try and strike up a conversation, but the only two topics of conversation I have are either about bands or dumb jokes. Luckily Mikey comes back soon, saving me from dying of awkwardness. He throws an old Blink 182 shirt at my head, and I run to their bathroom to get changed.

When I return, I hear voices I don't recognize speaking. I open the door to their garage, where they keep recording equipment and see a bunch of kids that look like they haven't showered in at least four days.

"See! He did show up! Frank, meet Pete, Patrick, Brendon, Hailey, Lindsey, and Ryan. They're gonna be trying out for Lemonade Punk."

"Sick," I respond, very coolly if I do say so myself.

"Oh, and I can't forget about Jamia! She said she would be late, but at least that was expected..."

The impact of that name hits me like a brick. I stumble backward, overcome by a wave of nausea. A set of images reel through my mind. Jamia. Jamia. Jamia. I probably look like a maniac. Why am I freaking out? What just happened? Who-

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I regain consciousness, looking up at a worried Mikey.

"Dude, you just passed out!"

No shit.

"Are you feeling alright? You already fell outside the house today, are you sick? Did I do this? God, I knew I shouldn't have pressured you to come today. With everything going on at your house, it's probably too much. I just wanted you to meet the new people!"

As Mikey continues rambling about God knows what, I reflect on what just happened. Well, I passed out. That's what happened. They were introducing me to the new people... Pete, Ryan... maybe a Brandon in there somewhere? There was Lindsey I think... Hailey...

Boom.

Jamia. 

Each time I hear or even think that name it feels like a blow to the face. Jamia. Jamia. Jamia.

"FRANK!" 

Startled, I jump back to the present.

"What's going on with you?" Mikey asks. 

Looking around, it seems like everyone has left. Mikey, noticing my observation, states, 

"Yeah, they all left. You were thrashing around, mumbling something? Dude, what's going on with you?"

I try and brush it off with a witty comment. It doesn't work, because the second I open my mouth I vomit. 

Mikey makes a strangled noise and moves to get me a trash can.

"Alright... no more talking now." He stands up, while I continue retching into the bin.

Shaken, he calls for Gerard. Gerard, upon seeing me, is stricken with a look of concern. He opens his mouth to ask me something, but Mikey stops him. He whispers something to Gerard, and he nods. 

Gerard sits by me until I've finished throwing up, then helps me clean up the mess.

"Mikey wanted me to drive you home since you're in no condition to walk."

I open my mouth yet again but seeing how that worked out for me last time, I don't try and speak. What was going to be another comment on how I'm fine and can get home by myself turns into a nod and a halfhearted smile.

He reaches out a hand to help me up (this hasn't happened before), and slowly, I get up.

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About halfway through the car drive, he turns on some music, and I drift off, head resting on the window.

Welcome to the story! Okay, hear me out. I promise Jamia isn't his crazy ex who cheated on him and now he can't stand the sight of her. Anyway, I wanted to try and write something, because it's currently 2 in the morning, and I'm bored, but I actually have a plot for this (which is pretty surprising). I can't promise that this will be, you know, good, but at least I'll try. 

Also the thing with the teal roots, the years are definitely not going to be in order, 1, because I'm lazy, and 2, because I don't want to have to coordinate everything that goes on, because it will probably be a lot. I mean yeah, it comes down to laziness. Oops.

Also! From now on it's not gonna be first person hehehehe... sorry