Chapter 1

                                    

                                          
“One good thing about music; when it hits you, you feel no pain.”
                          
--  Bob Marley
                          
Chapter 1
                          
            My outfit today is a black romper, a black leather jacket, black stockings, black combat boots, and my favorite black beanie.  I looked at my reflection in the mirror.  My burgundy, curly hair is in a messy doughnut bun, while my face remains untouched, except for my lips.  They were a light pink color because of my Baby Lips from Maybelline and they were slightly plump.  I decided that my face looks better without makeup as I get up from my vanity chair. 
                          
            Before I leave, I take a look around my room.  My bed in the corner had a thick black comforter accompanied with black, burgundy, and white pillows.  My burgundy bedside table had a black lamp on it and my alarm clock.  My closet has mainly black clothing and my vanity had all dark makeup.  As I was looking at my vanity, I realized that I had forgotten to spray my vanilla perfume on.  I took the bottle, sprayed the air at three different levels, and stepped in it. 
                          
            “Babe, are you ready yet?” My boyfriend, Liam yelled from downstairs.  He doesn’t live with me, my mother, and my sister, but he picks me up and takes me to school. 
                          
            “Almost!” I replied “Liam are you ready?”
                          
            “Of course! That’s why I came here!  I came to pick you up, Genny!”  
                          
            “I know, Liam! I was just kidding with you.” I said as I jogged down the stairs.  He was there at the bottom waiting for me. 
                          
            “It took you long enough.” He said with a lighthearted laugh. 
                          
            “I know, but let’s just leave.  Bye Mom!”  I screamed to my mother as we walked out of the front door to Liam’s Burgundy, 1987 Chevy Impala. 
                          
            As I slid onto one of the seats, my hand instinctively reached for the radio. 
                          
            “What song is Broken Arrow going to sing at the gig on Friday?” I asked.  Broken Arrow is the name of the band me Liam are in.  He is the lead guitarist/male singer and I am lead female vocals.  I also work the drums, occasionally when our drummer, Ryker. 
                          
            “Well, I was thinking more along the lines of ‘Breakeven’ by the Script, but Hendrix thought that your voice would be good for ‘Decode’.”  He replied as he started up the car.  Hendrix was our secondary guitarist and back-up vocals. 
                          
            “Hey, isn’t that by Paramore?”
                          
            “Yeah.”
                          
            “I think ‘Breakeven’ would be best because I know it like the back of my hand and in the short amount of time we have, the least challenging song is best.”
                          
            “That’s exactly what I said.” He started, with a laugh as he entwined our fingers.  “We think alike.”
                          
            “Babe, it’s only because we’re awesome.”  I said with a cheesy grin on my face. 
                          
            “Genevieve.”
                          
            “What is it?”
                          
            “You know what I think?” I shook my head; no.  “You’re right!”
                          
            “Oh, wow.  I thought you had to say something worthwhile.”
                          
            He put his hand to his heart in mock hurt.  “You don’t think that that was important?”
                          
            “Nope.” I said, popping the ‘p’. 
                          
            “So, we’ve decided ‘Breakeven’ to sing at Time’s Harbor?”  I clarified.  Time’s Harbor was the all-ages bar that we often practiced and performed at. 
                          
            “Pretty much.”
                          
            “I’ll text Ryker, Hendrix, and Nitro.” I said, whipping out my iPhone 5.  Nitro was our techie.  He basically made sure our gigs were organized, arranged, and went as smoothly as possible.  He also plays the electric piano. 
                          
To:  Ryker Dansen, Hendrix Marco, Nitro Maddox
                          
Me:  Hey, guys we picked breakeven for the gig song. 
                          
Any objections? Well 2 bad bc idc.  Mwahahaha
                          
            When the text was sent I looked over at Liam to see him staring at the road ahead.  We were pulling into the school’s parking lot.  I let out a groan as I undid my seatbelt. 
                          
            “Whoa, whoa wait.  No undoing your seatbelt until the car comes to a complete stop.  You OBVIOUSLY need to take a Passenger 101 course, Genevieve.”
                          
            “I guess a certain someone, a.k.a. you, isn’t getting kissed any time soon.”
                          
            “Come on.  You know you can’t resist this.” He said as he gestured to himself. 
                          
            “Sure sure.  If that’s what lets you sleep at night.” I replied as I stepped out of the car into the cold, crispy, wonderful L.A. air. 
                          
            “Oh, come on.  You know you love me.” He said quietly as he put one hand on my waist as we walked to the school doors.  All I did was let out a short chuckle. 
                          
            “Liam, let’s just get to AP Calc.”  I said, taking his hand off of my waist and entwining our hands. 
                          
            “We’re so smart.”  He said with a cheesy grin spread across his face. 
                          
            “You know it.” I agreed, just as my cell went off in my pocket.  We stopped outside of the classroom as I checked the message. 
                          
From: Nitro Maddox
                          
The song choice is gr8! Are we practicin’ today after school?
                          
            I typed a quick reply of ‘Yep and tell the others’ and headed into the room. 
                          
            Our AP Calc teacher, Mr. Bédoin, was always asleep, but he always puts our days’ and nights’ assignments up on the board.  He believes in responsibility and the idea that if we fail, it’s our fault.  I kind of wish that all of our teachers taught like that. 
                          
            Liam took my hand in his and led us to our usual seats: the joint desk in the back.  It’s kind of like a big table and today for some reason it hosted a rather large body:  Tyler Brent.  Tyler was the school’s jockiest jock.  In simpler terms, he was a muscular airhead who knew how to throw a ball.  Personally, I have nothing against athletes or sports, but he REALLY gives in to the jock cliché. 
                          
            “Excuse me.” I addressed him before Liam could. 
                          
            “Why did you sneeze?” Wow he was one dummy. 
                          
            “Dude, ‘bless you’ is for when you sneeze.”  Liam said harshly. 
                          
            “Oh.”
                          
            “Yeah, well, we usually sit here and we would really appreciate it if we could sit here.”
                          
            “Your usual seat? But you’re new to this class.”  He said, dumbfounded. 
                          
            “No actually, we’ve been in this class all year.  This is our AP Calc class.” I said, amazed at how stupid he was. 
                          
            “AP what?”
                          
            “Dude, you’re in the wrong class.”
                          
            “Oh.  That makes sense.” He muttered to himself as he got up from the chair and walked out of the room. 
                          
            “Babe, we are DEFINITELY smart.” I said before laughing uncontrollably.