Forever is a Long Time . . .

The next day was Saturday and that meant band practice. Though I wasn’t in the band, I still went to their rehearsals every weekend to watch and listen to the guys play.

I got out of bed and made my way to the shower, turning on the water and getting in. I just stood there for a moment, letting the cool water wake me up a little before I turned up the heat and went about my routine. Once I’d finished, I got out and went back to my room to get dressed for the day.

Band practice was always held at Bob’s house because his drums were already set up in his basement and there was no point in exerting all the effort to move them around. That and the fact that Bob was notoriously late for everything, so if he was already at his house, he’d be on time, or at least that’s how it was supposed to work.

When I got to Bob’s house, he was still sleeping. His mom let me in, greeting me with, “Good morning, Paige. Bob’s still up in his room, but I’m not sure if he’s awake yet.” I smiled to Mrs. Bryar and thanked her before heading up to Bob’s room to see him still sleeping. The other guys hadn’t yet arrived and I was unofficially left with the task of waking him up. If I was gonna have to get him out of bed, I might as well have a little fun with it.

I searched the contents of Bob’s room for a moment. As the organization and cleanliness of the guys’ rooms went, Bob’s was pretty decent with just a few stray pieces of clothing on the floor and the occasional sheet of music or drumstick lying around.

Sitting on top of a stack of CDs, was a pair of headphones connected to his iPod. Careful not to make too much noise -yet- I picked up the music player and slipped the headphones over Bob’s ears. This was gonna be good.

Bob woke up to Black Flag blasting through the speakers. He sat up with a start, frantically pulling off the headphones and trying to recover from the loud music. He looked to me, still in shock as I tried to suppress my laughter which at this point was loud and obnoxious, but not nearly as bad as the music must have been.

“Holy shit, Paige! Why?!” Bob asked, still jittery from his rude awakening.

Still cracking up, I managed to stutter out, “That’s what you get for holding a grudge, Bryar. Don’t mess with Paige Kline.” That should teach him not to bring up the kiss again.

“Alright, alright. I’ll drop it, but next time wake me up like a normal person, please?” I smiled, mostly from the giggles, and nodded my head. “Deal, now get dressed; it’s Saturday.”

Bob let out a sigh and slowly got out of bed. He stood up and let out a yawn before groggily making his was over to his closet to get dressed. Since I wasn’t really in the mood to see Bob undress, I went downstairs to wait for him and the rest of the guys.

When I got to the bottom of the steps, I heard a car door open then close followed by the Way brothers walking up the front steps. I went over to the front door and let them in just as Bob came downstairs, clothed but still tired looking. The boys all said their hellos and all there was left to do was set up the amps and microphones and wait for Ray and Frank.

When the pair finally arrived, too late to actually contribute in the set up effort, practice began. Frank came up to me and ruffled my already messy hair while teasing, “Hey sleepy-head, get enough rest last night?”


I rolled my eyes at him and grabbed at his hand before he did too much damage to my hair and sarcastically retaliated, “Ha, ha, you’re very funny, Mr. Iero.”

Frank just laughed and said, “I know I am, and that’s why you love me.” He had no idea.

I did love Frank and he knew to some extent, but the love he knew of that I felt for him was strictly platonic and, much to my dismay, brotherly. I was willing to keep his thoughts at that, not daring push any further and letting him, or anyone else, know of my true and real feelings. It was much more important to me that I keep Frank as a friend rather than try for a relationship and lose him in the end. I mean, I’d wanted Frank and me to be something more for the past six years, but if something went wrong, I’d be crushed if it meant losing him completely. I’d rather have him in my life as a friend than not at all.

Band practice soon began, distracting me from my thoughts. I didn’t want my pining for Frank to get in the way of enjoying my personal little concert. When all the guitars were tuned and all the amps turned up, the boys began their small set of songs.

I always loved to watch the guys play. They put their hearts and souls into every performance, even now, when I was the only audience member. Gerard sang with passion and honesty, Mikey got himself lost in the beat, Bob drummed like there was no tomorrow and Ray could play the riffs faster than lightning. But of course, my favorite musician to watch was Frank.

He had the most energy out of all of them. He moved around the makeshift stage, playing next to everyone at one time or another. He even came over to where I sat and strummed out his chords next to me, earning him a laugh and smile on my part. It was clear that Frank absolutely loved to play the guitar and to make music with the guys, putting every bit of energy he had into every performance, even if just for rehearsal and I was the only one watching.

It made me feel really special to know that the guys thought I was worth all their effort, choosing not to half-ass their playing, but instead, kicking it up just for me. This was just about the only place on Earth I actually did feel special, and it was thanks to these guys, my best friends in the world. Out of everyone I knew, they never failed to make me feel important; something even my parents never even accomplished.

I wasn’t exactly a screw up; I got decent grades, and was fairly athletic, running acceptable times during my days as a trackie on the school’s team, but compared to Joshua, I was a downright failure.

My parents never batted an eyelash toward anything I’d really ever done, but Josh was a different story. He took nearly all advanced classes, receiving high scores in each of them. He was the star running back of the school’s football team and adored by coaches and cheerleaders alike. My parents paid nearly all of their attention to what was going on in Josh’s life, and rarely did they care about what I was doing, so long as I wasn’t getting myself into any trouble. They saw absolutely no potential in me.

My friends were all I had to stand by me, and even then I had to be careful. The guys were the only true friends I had and I was likely to ever have. In the past, I’d try to make friends with others, but after Marissa Lorem, I decided that I didn’t need anyone else.

Marissa and I had been friends back in the beginning of high school. Frank had warned me about her, but I ignored his precautions and tried to make friends anyway. I should have listened to him.

She led me on for months; sleeping over each other’s houses, shopping together on the weekends. I was liking the fact that I’d finally had a girl I could go and hang out with instead of always being around the guys, but it soon proved to be worthless. Marissa had only been using me to get close to Josh and the moment he asked her out, she revealed to me the true bitch that she was, leaving me for my brother and going right back to pretending I never existed.

But these guys were different. When things with Marissa ended on a sour note, the guys were right there for me. They didn’t rub it in my face, the fact that they’d told me she was trouble and that I’d ignored their warnings. They just proved to me that they were my real friends and made me realize that I shouldn’t have messed with a good thing. I also vowed to never make friends with any more snobby girls, just in case.

The guys saw potential in me and encouraged my endeavors when my parents wouldn’t. I saw just as much potential in them; going to their rehearsals, listening to them play, and telling them how awesome they sounded. We were always there for each other, no matter anything else. We were, as cheesy and sappy as it sounds, each other’s personal therapists, cheerleaders and biggest fans. And that’s what I loved about our little group of outcast losers; apart we were so different and individual, yet somehow, we seemed to click together seamlessly.

Notes

Heyo! I don't know why, but I've been super-psyched to post all week; hope the writing lives up.
Enjoy the reading, let me know whatcha think in the comments (if you want to) and I'll see ya back here next Friday!!

P.S. I know I mentioned it last time, but if you wanna check out some of my original writing (i.e. non-MCR) feel free to take a look on my Wattpad page (the link is in the Notes of chapter five - the one before this)

Thanks so much!! : )