Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's a Story 3


Never Mind the Bollocks, Here's a Story 3

By Melanie E.

Suffering the interminable wait until new compy parts arrive via the wonders of UPS and internet purchases while my brain slowly melts out my ears due to exhaustion after a long night at work. Heck, what better time to try and write a bit of story?

-==-

We finished up with our third song to riotous cheering and clapping from our small but enthralled audience, Jimmy and Jenny both bouncing up and down excitedly. "More, more!"

"Pleeeeease?"

"Whadda you say, guys?" I asked my bandmates, all of whom gave me nods or thumbs up. Well, all except for Greg, who instead gave a rim flam that made me glad I'd fitted both the twins and myself with ear plugs before we'd started. With a quick one-two-three click of his sticks we were off into the next song of the set we'd been working on for the last couple of weeks, my bass amp thunking away next to me as we played.

It had been a week since that ruinous afternoon, but I'd yet to actually do anything to the twins as punishment for destroying my stuff. Mom had punished them plenty in her own way, grounding them (no big deal at seven, though the way they'd wailed it was the end of the world,) and taking away their tablets until they really DID manage to "pay back" the cost of a new TV and console by doing chores around the house. Still, there were things I could get away with as the eldest sibling that Mom just couldn't do, and I had spent many a happy if malicious minute contemplating just what I would to to wrest my revenge from them.

Even with that, though, I had to admit things hadn't gone too badly since. Moving tutoring to my house instead of going to the homes of the people I was helping had actually been a good thing, since it had allowed me to compress the time I spent tutoring down a bit without having to account for travel time, and as me and the band had quickly figured out, having a live audience to play for was infinitely better than Greg's sad excuse for a mutt back at his place.

I sang my heart out as we played, too. Yeah, I know, bass guitar and lead singer, weird combo huh? What can I say, Dad was a rush fan, and I'd kinda inherited the addiction. We'd kind of patterned ourselves on the band a bit at first, but our lineup had expanded since with Greg on drums, me on bass and vocals, and our friends Julio and Jesus (hey-soos) on twin guitars, with Greg's sister Emma playing keyboards for us. It was a blast, and we'd even tried our hand at a Rush song or two, though none of us were anywhere near good enough to actually emulate them. Still, even being able to play some of the Top 40 stuff off the radio was fun.

We finished up with our version of Imagine Dragons' "Radioactive" to more cheering and applause, and I could feel the grin growing on my face when the twins' excitement was finally too much for them and they came up to us and started chattering nonstop at Julio and Jesus. Since they were twins too the little devils had taken an instant liking to them, and for Julio and Jesus' part they had taken it in stride, humoring the kids as much as they could.

My musings as I watched the two pairs of twins chatting was interrupted by a tapping on my shoulder, and when I turned around I found Emily standing there, a smile on her own face. I quickly took my earplugs out and palmed them, giving her a shrug. "What's up?"

"Nothing," she said, giggling. "I was just saying how nice it is to see how much you love the twins."

"Who, those monsters?" I asked, raising my voice to make sure the monsters in question heard. I waited until I got the growls in answer I'd been expecting before continuing. "I kinda have to. I mean, I'm their big brother."

"Maybe," she said, still grinning from ear to ear, "but there's more there. You really care about them a lot, like take care of them, don't you?"

Now I was getting embarrassed. "Well, I mean, Mom and Dad work a lot, so it just kinda happens."

"Really? GREG!" She called over my shoulder, making me wince and wish for a moment I'd kept my earplugs in.

"Yep?" Greg asked from behind me, close enough to make me jump.

"You ever see Sam here do anything to hurt those two?" She asked him, pointing at my still-preoccupied siblings.

"Not once," Greg answered, laying a hefty hand on my shoulder. Greg was one of those guys who a lot of people found intimidating just hearing his voice and seeing how big he was. "Since they were born lil' Sam's been super protective of them."

"Thought so," Emma said, giggling again. "No wonder they adore you."

"They do?"

"Like you didn't know that already," she scoffed, giving me a playful shove.

Greg and Emma had been my friends since, heck, I couldn't remember a time we WEREN'T a group. Greg and his sister were less than a year apart, and due to a quirk in the way our school handled entrance ages the three of us had always been in the same class at school. I'd actually met Emma first, the two of us arguing over who got the play kitchen our first day in kindergarten, and we'd been an inseparable trio since. We picked on Greg a lot about being the baby of the bunch, but he'd turn right around and pick on both of us for being little elfs, something that always bothered me since I wasn't THAT short.

Greg and Emma just stood there while I thought about everything. Them, me, the twins. I looked Jimmy and Jenny's way again, and the two of them looked back toward me with grins from ear to ear before turning back to our guitar players.

Maybe I wouldn't make my revenge on them all THAT bad....

-==-

NOTES: I know, I know, still no TG, but whatever. If that's what you're waiting for, I promise it'll come eventually; I'm just not rushing myself since this is all just a "hey let's write something" spur of the moment thing anyway.

So, read, enjoy, and let me know what you think in the comments below. Suggestions for the future are welcome, since this is all flying by the seat of my pants anyhow.



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This story is 1120 words long.