The New Member

“So, it all started out as a normal day when I met these guys, but boy did that change quickly.”

————
6 years ago

I got released early from my job at Guitar Center. Sure, I know a lot about guitars and I restore them in my free time, but lets just say it isn’t my dream job. I studied graphic design the last couple of years and passed with flying colors. My job back at home paid well, and I enjoyed it a lot. I got to design logos for companies, do some website designing, and I even got to design an album cover for some local band. This is one of the many reasons why I said I moved away for ‘job opportunities’. People didn’t see the reason why I would want to leave and have a fresh start. I had the perfect job, the nice apartment, and the loving boyfriend. You see, thats what people thought, it didn’t mean it was true. The only good thing back home was my job. I had a fall out with my family, but it seemed to only be like that from my side. My family thought they were perfect. They didn’t do anything wrong, I was just fed up with their bullshit. They supported everything I did, but that was all. They only cared about what I did, not how I felt about things around me. But I digress. I was telling you about my current job.

I enjoyed being around the instruments, they were my second home. I always had this weird connection with music. As a small 4 year old me I already paid attention to what was being said during the songs. When I was 6 I started playing an instrument seriously; sure, it might have just been a recorder, but I was entertained by it. A year or two later I started playing the violin. It was something I was always fascinated about. Music started meaning more to me and I realised how empty-headed lyrics where. I played the violin for over 7 years. But I started getting bored, I was never the type to stick around for something too long. When my family and I moved back to my home country when I was 14, I no longer listened to music. I wasn’t fun anymore. There was nobody to share with. Everybody around me wasn’t interested in the quiet kid that moved here from Germany. Eventually I got over it and I didn’t care if nobody was around me anymore, it was now this private thing that had so much meaning. This was also the time I started to work more on my art. With nobody to go out with, I just stayed at home and sketched in my crappy sketch book. I got a few more friends around that time and they asked me why I was so good at art. i didn’t think i was that amazing, but all I could say was “Practise makes perfect”, not wanting to go deeper inside the story. This was also my motto when I was teaching myself how to play the guitar, my soul instrument. It was something I was determined to be good at this. I wanted to be able to play those many songs I fell in love with.
So you would think that i would love my job. But music just turned into a hobby, I knew I would never be able to make my own name in this world with that. But with art I would be able to. I worked my ass off trying to get into the school I wanted to go to. Eventually it all payed off. I had my degree.

So here I was now. Home early again and working on a few new pieces to add to my portfolio to send off to various different companies. I was all in the zone, finally having an idea for the new studio piece I was creating, when it started. Electric guitar rang through the walls. It came from the room next door. A room that belonged to the apartment of the toilet brush guy. I never caught his name, and I don’t think he ever got mine. I hadn’t seen him for a few months, but that was probably my fault. I only left my apartment for work and grocery shopping. I didn’t have any friends here, and I wasn’t in need of them. Maybe someday our paths will cross again. Little did I know that today was that day.

I finished sketching the outline of the face I was working on and was about to start the basic shading when the same 5 seconds of the song were replayed over and over again. Sometimes there was a new chord added, but it often sounded terrible, or they decided to scrap the idea. I tried to tune out the repeating rhythm by turning on my own music louder. But once you notice something you will never un-notice it. It kept going for at least half an hour and I was fine with it until I realised that I just messed up the shading on half of the face. I started breathing heavily and the annoying tune started getting louder and louder. I could take it anymore. I kicked my chair back and stomped over to toilet brush guy’s front door, slamming my own door shut. The all to familiar door bell sounded and I tapped my foot nervously just wanting to get this over with. A tall man with a snapback and a lip piercing opened up the door. I stared at him for a good 5 seconds before remembering what I came to do. I pushed past him and treaded towards where the sound was coming from.
“Just play a fucking D already!”, I yelled getting really impatient.
“I’m sorry?”, toilet brush guy asked.
“The D chord! Just play the D chord already! Play it after those other chords! You’re really getting on my nerves playing the same thing over and over again!”, I whined.
“Umm… ok I guess?”
He played the whole thing again, but this time progressing to a D chord at the end. It fit perfectly, ending the verse nicely.
“There we go was that so hard!”, I rolled my eyes. Thats when I looked down at my clothes and saw they were full of paint. Shit. This meant my hair and face was probably full of paint to. I must look like some crazy woman!
I sighed “I’m sorry, I must look crazy right now. I was working on a studio piece and everything was going wrong and this stupid song was just being repeated and repeated. I just couldn’t take it anymore. Hence why I’m covered in paint and screaming in your place right now… I just leave and act like this never happened”
“No! No, it’s fine. You really helped us. Thanks so much…. I’m sorry, I didn’t catch your name last time.”, Toilet brush guy said.
“It’s Noortje, it’s dutch. I also didn’t get you name, toilet brush guy.”
The guys started laughing like maniacs when they heard the nickname.
“Vic. But, you’re dutch? You might not sound from around here, but you definitely don’t sound dutch.”
“Long explanation. I’ve lived in England and Germany, so my accent is all over the place.” I looked around at the other guys. They were just staring at me and I was starting to feel uncomfortable.
“Ooh, uh. This is Tony” Vic pointed towards a guy with long black hair covering half of his face, “this is Jaime,” He pointed to a cheerful smiling boy, “and that’s my brother Mike.” He directed towards the guy that opened the door.
“Hi,” I whispered in a high pitched voice, “I’m going to get going, I have to figure out how to fix this messed up artwork.” My face turned into exasperation and I walked towards the door.
The guys snickered and said bye in unison.

———
Present Day

“So that’s the wonderful tale of how I met these other guys, but I’m not done yet!”

———
6 Years Ago

A couple of days after the awkward encounter I found myself sitting quietly at my worn out desk with a bright desk lamp. My grandpa sent his precious guitar to me. His health was slowly getting worse and worse and he wanted to make sure I had received his guitar safely. It was old and worn out and I finally had some time to work of repairing it. I loved building and repairing guitars. Most of my guitars were costly made by yours truly. My glasses were carefully placed on my nose. I was just about to apply some glue to the pick guard when I heard a knock at my door. I carefully placed the piece on the table and made my way towards my front door.
“Hey, it’s Tony, right?”
“Yeah,” He smiled, “can I ask a huge favour?”
“Sure, go ahead. Unless you’re asking me to hide a body. Please don’t do that.”
“Hahaha, no it’s not that. Ok, well, the guys and I were practicing again and one of our guitars broke, and the guys figured you could have a guitar since you were able to suggest a chord last time.”
“I think I might have something, just go and get your broken guitar. Come with the others just to test it out, and I’ll see what I can do”
“Oh thank you, thank you, thank you. You just saved my life. The guys would probably have killed me if this meant we wouldn’t be able to practice anymore!”
“No problem! Now hurry up, I’ll keep my door open.”
Tony turned around and quickly ran back into Vic apartment. I went back to my workspace and looked around. It was a mess. Oh well, they probably won’t mind, they’re only here for my guitar. I was lost in my thought when I heard my naming being shouted.
“I’m in the last room to the left!” I replied.
The guys walked in and their jaws dropped. Mike looked a bit more unfazed than the others.
“Ok, so show me that broken guitar and you guys can look around and make your choice.” I said trying to break them out of their trance.
The guys just slowly nodded and looked around with excitement in their eyes. I sat on the floor looking at the guitar trying to see what was wrong with it. Everything seemed fine, except for the—
“Oh my god. Is that a 1965 Fender Music Master.” Tony exclaimed.
“Wait, she has what!”, Vic and Jaime shrieked at the same time.
“Hey! Don’t touch it! It will literally break apart! You break it you buy it!” I warned.
“Uh yeah… I would not want to pay for all this…” Jaime said with eyes popping out, “where did you even find one in such a good condition?”
“I got it from my grandfather. Im trying to repair it right now, so that why it will literally break apart.”

———
Present Day

“That’s the time I knew I was going to be best friends with you.” Tony smirked.
“Oh well, thank you. Nice to know that you only like me for my guitars and not for myself.”
“I’m just kidding Noortje, you're awesome.”

Notes

The second chapter!
Still giving a backstory to Noortje! Soon enough the story will continue in present day all the time.
Some of this story is connected to me. I have always had that weird connection to music. But I changed the nationality, countries, and ages. I don't want the story to be too personal to me.