Did You Call Me Last Night Just Cus' You Couldn't Get Laid?
Chapter Seven
The trailer was packed to the brim with Pierce The Veil’s tour equipment. Guitars, amps, picks and grills were piled up on top of each other, some of the stacks looked as if they were ready to fall over. Mike’s drums were set up facing the right wall of the trailer, taking up a large amount of space and leaving very little room to move. There was a tiny drum stall next to them, Mike gestured for me to sit down, running his fingers threw his hair before plonking himself down on the floor next to me.
“It’s been a while,” He said quietly, taking a drag from the joint in his hand, the smoke forming small o’s as he exhaled lazily. His drags were long and deep, taking in as much of the hazy smoke as possible.
“Yeah, I guess it has,” I responded, twiddling my thumbs and feeling slightly awkward. I wanted to look stunning in front of Mike, but here I was in leggings and a baggy t-shirt, only last night’s smudged makeup on my face.
“You’re even prettier than I remember,” he smiled at me, offering me the joint and putting it out when I declined. I twiddled my thumbs a little bit more and bit my lip, I had no clue how to act around him. I felt silly even being here after all this time, a huge part of me wanted to get up and leave but I couldn't, not now.
Mike pulled himself up off the floor and grabbed his drum sticks off a nearby amp. He quickly cleared his drums of stuff, his bong, papers and tobacco now littering the floor. I'd never really approved of his smoking habit, I'd smoked a lot of weed as a teenager and all it'd ever done was mess with my head, It seemed to have a different effect on Mike though, it calmed him, made him funnier.
“Fancy a jam sesh?” He grinned at me, his cute teethy smile making me warm up to him a little more.
“I can’t really play anything well,” It was true, I didn’t really know how to play any instruments, I’d picked up bits here and there, a couple guitar chords, a few drum beats, but I’d never really focused on one thing. I knew a lot about instruments and techniques, but very little about playing them.
“Want me to teach you a bit then?” Mike questioned, still smiling at me, his lip piercing barely visible in the dim light that washed his face.
“Alright, but can we put the mutes on? The boys are trying to sleep,” I said nervously, I never knew what to expect from Mike, he played his drums with passion and I didn't even know if he would own any mutes. To my surprise he grabbed some mute pads out from a box and attached them to his drums.
“I don’t like using them,” He told me smirking “But for you I will.”
Mike handed me the drum sticks, 2B vater’s I noted, heavy but not too heavy, perfect for someone who likes to play the drums hard. I started tapping out something I knew, using just the bass drum and the snare.
“You’ve got natural rhythm,” Mike told me, he was standing behind me, towering over me as he spoke. “Want me to teach you a straight roll?”
“Sure, if it’s not too hard,” I replied nervously, I didn’t want to look bad in front of him.
“It’s not, here let me help you,”
I felt Mikes touch from behind me on my arms, as he guided my playing. His hands were soft and gentle.
“Let the sticks bounce out of your hands, don’t grip them too tight, but don’t grip them too loosely either.” He spoke quietly and sleepily into my ear, a caring tone in his voice. I did as he said, loosing myself slightly in the beat as the snare drum echoed out a rolling beat.
“Am I doing okay?” I asked, pausing for a second.
“You’re doing great, that was perfect,” He told me, his hands still rested on my forearms. I blushed slightly and smiled.
“Thank you Mikey,” I grinned up at him, “Sorry for being so mean earlier, I wasn’t really myself."
“I gathered,” He replied, before lying down on the trailer floor, resting his head on his arms and closing his eyes.
I went to speak but it was too late, Mike was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling with every breath, he must have been exhausted. I stayed perched on the stall for a second, watching him sleep, wondering what was ever going to come of this. He was clearly intoxicated, he'd smelt of liquor, whiskey and weed, his eyes had been blood shot and his pupils huge, he was a million miles away from me, but yet he was so close. I hoped to god he wasn't being so nice just because he was drunk, I hoped to god this was really him. And in my slightly drunken and slightly confused state I lay my head down on one of the drums and fell asleep. A sleep that wasn't exactly restful but amidst with thoughts, a thousand different feelings literring my head.
“It’s been a while,” He said quietly, taking a drag from the joint in his hand, the smoke forming small o’s as he exhaled lazily. His drags were long and deep, taking in as much of the hazy smoke as possible.
“Yeah, I guess it has,” I responded, twiddling my thumbs and feeling slightly awkward. I wanted to look stunning in front of Mike, but here I was in leggings and a baggy t-shirt, only last night’s smudged makeup on my face.
“You’re even prettier than I remember,” he smiled at me, offering me the joint and putting it out when I declined. I twiddled my thumbs a little bit more and bit my lip, I had no clue how to act around him. I felt silly even being here after all this time, a huge part of me wanted to get up and leave but I couldn't, not now.
Mike pulled himself up off the floor and grabbed his drum sticks off a nearby amp. He quickly cleared his drums of stuff, his bong, papers and tobacco now littering the floor. I'd never really approved of his smoking habit, I'd smoked a lot of weed as a teenager and all it'd ever done was mess with my head, It seemed to have a different effect on Mike though, it calmed him, made him funnier.
“Fancy a jam sesh?” He grinned at me, his cute teethy smile making me warm up to him a little more.
“I can’t really play anything well,” It was true, I didn’t really know how to play any instruments, I’d picked up bits here and there, a couple guitar chords, a few drum beats, but I’d never really focused on one thing. I knew a lot about instruments and techniques, but very little about playing them.
“Want me to teach you a bit then?” Mike questioned, still smiling at me, his lip piercing barely visible in the dim light that washed his face.
“Alright, but can we put the mutes on? The boys are trying to sleep,” I said nervously, I never knew what to expect from Mike, he played his drums with passion and I didn't even know if he would own any mutes. To my surprise he grabbed some mute pads out from a box and attached them to his drums.
“I don’t like using them,” He told me smirking “But for you I will.”
Mike handed me the drum sticks, 2B vater’s I noted, heavy but not too heavy, perfect for someone who likes to play the drums hard. I started tapping out something I knew, using just the bass drum and the snare.
“You’ve got natural rhythm,” Mike told me, he was standing behind me, towering over me as he spoke. “Want me to teach you a straight roll?”
“Sure, if it’s not too hard,” I replied nervously, I didn’t want to look bad in front of him.
“It’s not, here let me help you,”
I felt Mikes touch from behind me on my arms, as he guided my playing. His hands were soft and gentle.
“Let the sticks bounce out of your hands, don’t grip them too tight, but don’t grip them too loosely either.” He spoke quietly and sleepily into my ear, a caring tone in his voice. I did as he said, loosing myself slightly in the beat as the snare drum echoed out a rolling beat.
“Am I doing okay?” I asked, pausing for a second.
“You’re doing great, that was perfect,” He told me, his hands still rested on my forearms. I blushed slightly and smiled.
“Thank you Mikey,” I grinned up at him, “Sorry for being so mean earlier, I wasn’t really myself."
“I gathered,” He replied, before lying down on the trailer floor, resting his head on his arms and closing his eyes.
I went to speak but it was too late, Mike was snoring softly, his chest rising and falling with every breath, he must have been exhausted. I stayed perched on the stall for a second, watching him sleep, wondering what was ever going to come of this. He was clearly intoxicated, he'd smelt of liquor, whiskey and weed, his eyes had been blood shot and his pupils huge, he was a million miles away from me, but yet he was so close. I hoped to god he wasn't being so nice just because he was drunk, I hoped to god this was really him. And in my slightly drunken and slightly confused state I lay my head down on one of the drums and fell asleep. A sleep that wasn't exactly restful but amidst with thoughts, a thousand different feelings literring my head.
Love the story. Update soon
5/26/14