Rockstar Serenade: The Verse

Ch 12: Because Concerts Are My Retreat

dedicated to a friend who was one of my very first readers (he read the first version of the book, yeah the suckish one) and I'm so glad he still liked it! :)

KAILEY~

I could sense butts itching to stand from their seats from my usual place at the farthest corner of the room. Trevor is one of the few who stay restless for the last sixty minutes of the school period, together with one chubby kid at the front row and the other one near the window. I figured that these three are one a few of the competitors for later. They have the common rockstar get-up: long, attention-calling hair, their gestures which silently shout, ‘don’t you dare get in my damn way,’ and either piercings or tattoo or both. In Trevor’s case, he’s got a tattoo on his left bicep. 

Thankfully, Oliver’s a sophomore. He isn’t there to pester me inside the classroom since we share no common subjects. But still, that guy could be a huge thorn on my side. For some strange reason—very strange indeed—he and Terra are too attached to me. He just proved to me that they are related by blood.  

One thing that bothers me is that bruise by Trevor’s eye. It annoyingly ruins his features. We still don’t talk to each other, all words unspoken, only glances from the corners of our eyes as our morning greetings, so I can’t really be sure what caused it. I’ve heard from unreliable sources, ehem, the gossip groups, that he’s been into a fist fight. I can’t be too sure. He could’ve just ran into something hard and lied about it. Or, he hurt himself on purpose just to look like a badass today. Who knows?

I’m too busy in my own realm of maybe’s and I think’s about Trevor’s bruise that I startle when the chairs suddenly make that noise when their legs rub against the floorings. It’s an army of annoying-sounding chairs and the friction hurts my ears. Apparently, almost the whole school population is excited for the battle of the bands. Swallowing the lump in my throat, I admit to myself that I am excited to watch too.

I am the last one to stand up. Trevor’s gone in a blink of an eye, and so are the other two guys I’ve got my eye on. I have no other purpose here inside the room so I might as well go outside and stick my nose into the enthusiastic groups, who nonsensically named themselves ‘Team insert-band-name-here.’ Rubbish! What if one bets on two or more bands?

I could imagine the setting for later. At the outdoor stage of CJA, the chairs would be clustered by these groups, Oliver’s band having the largest fanbase. Well, duh. Luckily, Terra had a seat reserved for me beside her at the VIP area so I wouldn’t have to worry about being left out when the categorizing takes place. I could worry about the questioning stares of the members of the club themselves, and their reeking smell of alcohol and sweat later.

As I hastily walk though the hallway, I see Oliver from afar being bombarded with goodluck’s, his hand tugging his girlfriend along. Her name is Brix. That’s her nickname, but I forgot her full name. I think it’s Brittany or Bridget or Beatrix. Well, it’s not like her name matters to me.

Heaving a sigh of relief that Oliver won’t be able to bother me right now, I head straight to the headquarters. Oliver and I had a little argument the days before, and if he has forgiven me, I don’t know. He’s been bugging me around, telling me to ask Terra this, ask Terra that, pick up clues on this and that, go to CJA and observe this, visit the headquarters at effin’ five in the morning to do that... it’s aggravating! He once asked me to ask Terra for the judge panel. The only thing that Terra told me is that she won’t be a part of it. Oliver isn’t satisfied with the information I relied to him. Terra’s careful when it comes to spilling information about the club, because her heart and soul remains loyal to its rules and constitution. Doesn’t Oliver know his own auntie?