It's Only Rock N' Roll

“If this goes well, you guys should consider recording a full album”, Mike suggested. The airport was cold. Today was cold. That wasn’t a surprise though, since the whole island was cold. We’d opted to drive to England ourselves where Jack’s cousin would be in charge of holding the van. He was also nice enough to drive us to the airport where we met Pierce the Veil. “Do you have anything in mind?” Mike continued.

“I’m thinking about On the Outskirts of Sanetown”, I told him. “We’ve got some songs-”

“Sen-tone?” Mike interrupted.

“Sane. Town. Town, like a village or city? Because if you say Sanetown enough times, it starts to sound like Satan! Anyway, Jayce and I have been working on a few diddies and I guess they’re alright-”

“We’ll help you!” Mike beamed. “We’re working on a new record ourselves so if there’s a slow day and we’re by a studio, we can show you guys what’s up and what’s down.”

“That sounds awesome”, I smiled, trying to contain a shiver. Mike grinned back and excused himself to hit the candy machine, but not before dropping his hoodie over my shoulders. I stayed sitting in my spot waiting for our terminal to call for boarding as someone plopped down next to me.

“What’re you doing with Mike’s coat?” Vic inquired.

I shrugged and played with a string from the striped garment. “He gave it to me”, I answered.

“Sure he did”, grunted the singer. “You know, nobody wants you here so don’t get so comfortable-”

“Mike seems nice.”

“Mike’s only nice because he has to be”, Vic muttered. “Because what if you leave the tour too? It’s a little too last minute to try hiring another band.”

“We’re not leaving”, I told him. “This is a good chance to prove we’re not some lame Zeppelin tribute bar band. And it looks like fans aren’t the only people we have to prove that to.” I smirked and sent him a sideways glance while Vic just folded his arms.

“You don’t have to prove anything to me”, Vic shrugged. “I could give less than a rat’s ass about you.”

“I can tell you’ll be a pleasure to work with”, I muttered, standing up. Vic looked at me but didn’t say anything as he plugged himself into some headphones and his phone. I approached Jaime and Lexus, who were discussing different bass techniques.

“There’s me widdle Axel!” Lexus beamed, squeezing me. I tried shoving him off.

“You.” I pointed to Jaime. “Why is your singer such a putz?”

Jaime frowned and looked over at the subject of my question. “I...he and Kellin were just tight”, he said lamely. “Kellin trying to take sole credit for something we all created together really messed Vic up. He’s really sensitive.”

“And that’s a reason to non discriminately hate us?” I questioned.

Jaime shook his head. “No, it’s not. You’re just-like as far as Vic’s concerned, you’re replacing his best friend. You shouldn’t be here and Kellin shouldn’t be such a douche but he doesn’t know how to handle it without being mad at everyone. Trust me, the four of us got in a screaming match over the bootleg we listened to. And I’ll give you three guesses about who started it.” The American bassist fluffed his spiky hair and looked between me and Lexus. “I don’t want you thinking he’s going to mess up your stage show though”, Jaime smirked. “Oh no. You come out to do King For a Day, Axel, and Vic WILL make sure it sounds good, even better than the studio version, just to piss off Kellin.”

“Anger takes people pretty far in this industry”, Lexus chuckled. “Look at how big Cryin’ Like a Bitch got during Crue Fest II.”

“I’m not Sully Erna”, I giggled. Before Jaime, Lexus, or I could say anything else, a mechanical voice sounded over head, saying that the trans-Atlantic flight 209 was boarding. We gripped our carry on bags and headed for the terminal, Jaime clasping a hand on my shoulder on the way to the door.

“Just remember, all you gotta do is knock ‘em dead, kid”, he whispered. I nodded and slid my hand over his before we managed to find our way onto the plane. I’d been studying my ticket since Puig gave it to me earlier today. Seat B-24. That was my seat. B-24. Judging by the way the seats were arranged, three on the left and right sides of the plane with a row of six in the middle, 24 was going to be a window seat. Chills ran down my arms even though I was still tucked securely in Mike’s jacket. I hated heights.

“Geezus Christ, what are you waiting for?” questioned who else but Vic? He pulled my ticket out of my hand and glared. “Ugh, we sit together. It’s right there. Get in-”

“Vic, I...this is gonna sound stupid, mate, but I can’t take the window seat.”

“Just why the Hell not?” he asked, forcing me into our row of three.

“Because I’m acrophobic!”

“Arachnophobia is the fear of spiders, smart one”, he scoffed, throwing my carry-on with his into the compartment above our heads.

“Ack-row-phobic”, I snapped. “Einstein.”

“Just sit down and shut up-”

“Why? You can’t just switch me?” I spluttered. Vic finally stood still, arms still in the air to shut the door. A few things flickered over his face before he shrugged.

“Fine, whatever”, he muttered. “Just don’t expect this to be a regular thing.” I nodded, letting him shimmy past me to take B-24 so I could take B-23. I sat down, buckling my seatbelt as Vic pulled his phone and ear buds back out. Quickly, I touched his arm, those hateful brown eyes glaring at me instantaneously.

“Thank you.”

He rolled his eyes and tossed a few curls from his face to plug himself back into his phone. “Don’t mention it”, Vic mumbled. Still glaring at me as if to make a point, he turned the volume up on his phone as loud as it would go before turning away and closing his eyes. He ignored the stewardess up front who went over the safety procedures but I made sure I paid attention to every word that came out of her. Slowly, the plane started to move. I chanced a glance out of Vic’s window and saw exactly when the plane began leaving the ground. I grabbed at his arm, again earning a glare.

“Axel, seriously?” he asked, shutting the blind on his window. “You’re fine. You’re going to BE fine. Take your claws out of my arm.”

“I’m sorry”, I pleaded. “What if something happens? What if the plane crashes or we’re...I dunno, abducted by aliens?”

Vic ripped out his ear buds so I repeated myself for him. He groaned. “Nothing’s going to happen”, he sighed. “I’ve done this a million times and I’m still here. Just...chill. God, you’re annoying.”

“Fucking sorry”, I grumbled, pulling my knees to my chest. It was a tight fit in the seat but I didn’t mind. Whatever left the least bit of me exposed to someone so unnecessarily hateful was fine by me. I turned to the aisle, seeing Jayce and Matt sitting at the end of the six-seat row, and Tony and Mike in front of them. Disregarding the poor business man in the seat separating me from the others, we all talked and laughed until the plane ride was over. At least Vic’s band mates weren’t the gobshites he was.

Notes