Did You Call Me Last Night Just Cus' You Couldn't Get Laid?
Chapter Six
As I ventured out of the bus I tripped a little, my balance not quite recovered from the night before, I giggled to myself and jumped off the last step, listening to the sounds of the night. The street lamps had all been turned off now, the sky was a black blanket and my eyes squinted as they tried to make out the shadowy shapes of the other buses.
I made a mental note of where my bus was, “The third from the right and fifth from the left” I repeated in my head a couple of times, making sure I wouldn’t forget.
The sound of the drums was much louder now and the grassy smell which I had now identified as weed was much stronger, it filled my nose making me cough slightly. I began to follow the noise, intrigued to see who was up at this time playing drums and having a spliff.
I headed towards the trailer where the drums were being played and the weed was being smoked. It was attached to an ancient transit van, a lot of the bands did that for extra storage space, especially if they needed extra drums or guitars whilst on tour, instruments took up a lot of room. I pulled out my phone and shone it onto the number plate of the van, wondering if I’d recognize it. I didn’t, which was odd, I knew most of the vehicles we toured with.
Standing on tip toes I peeked inside the front of the van, wondering if there was a driver and if someone was about to leave, no one was there, so I headed round to the back of the trailer.
I intended to politely tell the person to shut up, hoping that it was someone that I knew anyway. It was hot in my bus and I wanted to be able to open the window without hearing drums being played stupidly loud, I considered that pretty reasonable.
The closer I got the more I realised how amazing this drummer was, the beat was strong and fast, the rolls were perfect and they were hitting the bass drum with just the right amount of force. I’d been watching bands perform almost every night since I was 16 and I knew plenty of people who played instruments, so I’d picked up a lot of knowledge about instruments, especially drumming, I knew what made a good drummer.
A pause in the drumming came and I took my opportunity to knock on the trailer door.
“Hey,” I shouted “The drumming is fab and all, but it’s dead hot in my bus so we need the window open and we’ll all trying to sleep. Do you mind keeping it down a bit, maybe putting the mutes on?”
For a while there was no reply, I stood there, wondering if I should speak again. I heard someone moving about in the trailer, the sound of a lighter and then the door flew open. Mike was stood in front of me, wearing only jeans and a pair of battered vans, his chest bare and covered in tattoos. His hair was a tangled mess and he had a joint in his hand. I shot a look over to his drum kit, which was covered in marijuana paraphernalia.
“Oh,” was all I managed to say, I went to turn and walk away, presuming that he hated me and that I’d really pissed him off. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with Mike, I was tired, my head hurt and all I really wanted to do was sleep.
I’d only got a few metres from the trailer when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.
“No,” I heard Mikes voice whisper from behind me “Please stay, just for a bit?” He sounded tired and broken, almost like something had upset him, but at the same time his voice was husky and seductive.I couldn’t leave either way.
“Maybe just for a little while then,” I turned around and smiled at him, slipping my hand into his.
It was strange, but this was how it always happened. We’d have crazy arguments then be best friends a little while later, pretending as if nothing had ever happened. I always forgave him and he always forgave me, but I didn’t know if I was ready for things to be like how they used to be. It was too scary, too painful, but I followed him back into the trailer all the same, I wasn’t ready to let this one slide just yet.
I made a mental note of where my bus was, “The third from the right and fifth from the left” I repeated in my head a couple of times, making sure I wouldn’t forget.
The sound of the drums was much louder now and the grassy smell which I had now identified as weed was much stronger, it filled my nose making me cough slightly. I began to follow the noise, intrigued to see who was up at this time playing drums and having a spliff.
I headed towards the trailer where the drums were being played and the weed was being smoked. It was attached to an ancient transit van, a lot of the bands did that for extra storage space, especially if they needed extra drums or guitars whilst on tour, instruments took up a lot of room. I pulled out my phone and shone it onto the number plate of the van, wondering if I’d recognize it. I didn’t, which was odd, I knew most of the vehicles we toured with.
Standing on tip toes I peeked inside the front of the van, wondering if there was a driver and if someone was about to leave, no one was there, so I headed round to the back of the trailer.
I intended to politely tell the person to shut up, hoping that it was someone that I knew anyway. It was hot in my bus and I wanted to be able to open the window without hearing drums being played stupidly loud, I considered that pretty reasonable.
The closer I got the more I realised how amazing this drummer was, the beat was strong and fast, the rolls were perfect and they were hitting the bass drum with just the right amount of force. I’d been watching bands perform almost every night since I was 16 and I knew plenty of people who played instruments, so I’d picked up a lot of knowledge about instruments, especially drumming, I knew what made a good drummer.
A pause in the drumming came and I took my opportunity to knock on the trailer door.
“Hey,” I shouted “The drumming is fab and all, but it’s dead hot in my bus so we need the window open and we’ll all trying to sleep. Do you mind keeping it down a bit, maybe putting the mutes on?”
For a while there was no reply, I stood there, wondering if I should speak again. I heard someone moving about in the trailer, the sound of a lighter and then the door flew open. Mike was stood in front of me, wearing only jeans and a pair of battered vans, his chest bare and covered in tattoos. His hair was a tangled mess and he had a joint in his hand. I shot a look over to his drum kit, which was covered in marijuana paraphernalia.
“Oh,” was all I managed to say, I went to turn and walk away, presuming that he hated me and that I’d really pissed him off. I wasn’t in the mood to argue with Mike, I was tired, my head hurt and all I really wanted to do was sleep.
I’d only got a few metres from the trailer when I felt a warm hand on my shoulder.
“No,” I heard Mikes voice whisper from behind me “Please stay, just for a bit?” He sounded tired and broken, almost like something had upset him, but at the same time his voice was husky and seductive.I couldn’t leave either way.
“Maybe just for a little while then,” I turned around and smiled at him, slipping my hand into his.
It was strange, but this was how it always happened. We’d have crazy arguments then be best friends a little while later, pretending as if nothing had ever happened. I always forgave him and he always forgave me, but I didn’t know if I was ready for things to be like how they used to be. It was too scary, too painful, but I followed him back into the trailer all the same, I wasn’t ready to let this one slide just yet.
Notes
Hey guys! next chapters gonna be cute :)don't forget to comment and subscribe so I know you guys are reading it? :c
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Thank you, also if you guys want me to check out your stories but that in the comments too, I love reading other peoples :-)
Have a nice night, another few chapters tomorrow! x
Love the story. Update soon
5/26/14