Double posting because I can. xD
Also, double posting because I actually have a new chapter ready. Shocking, I know. Hold your applause. It's been a while, but let's pick up right where we left off, shall we?
*****
Chapter Seven: Escalation
"I will break... into your thoughts... with what's written on my heart...
I WILL BREAAAAK!"
Paul slowly opened his eyes, lying facedown on his bed. He quickly winced, shutting his eyes as the morning sun beamed directly into his vision. He looked over at the clock, which was currently blaring heavy metal music for an alarm. 9:00 AM. Not terribly early, but after the concert last night, he felt exhausted.
He slowly picked himself up and sat up, throwing the covers off him as he stretched his arms out. He hit the stop button on the clock to end the music, rubbing his eyes before standing up. His long black hair fell over his face, hiding most of his features.
"I need a haircut..." he thought to himself, running his hand through his hair and sweeping it out of his eyes. He grabbed his green beanie-cap and put it on before leaving his room.
Upon opening the door to his room, he was bombarded with the strong aroma of bacon and eggs coming from the kitchen, accompanied by the familiar sound of grease sizzling on the pan. He walked over to the kitchen, seeing his sister, Rebecca, cooking over the stove. Beside her stood a Wigglytuff, gathering various ingredients and putting them up on the counter for Rebecca to use.
"Thank you, Ginger, my little kitchen assistant!" Rebecca said with a smile, patting the Wigglytuff's head which earned a coo in response. She swept her long brown hair behind her, before noticing Paul walking into the kitchen. "Good morning, sleepy head!" she teased.
"Morning, Rebecca," Paul said, still a bit groggy. "What's the occasion? You don't usually cook big breakfasts like this."
"What's the occasion?" she parroted back, saying it like Paul should have known. "My little brother's successful first gig isn't a good enough reason to celebrate?"
"If you say so..." Paul said, not sure if that was really a valid reason for celebration. "It wasn't really that big of a deal, honestly."
"Oh hush!" Rebecca chastised; she was not going to have her brother downplaying their achievement. "You should be happy! You guys rocked last night! Now go have a seat, breakfast is ready."
Paul wasn't going to argue with her, since he was thankful he didn't have to make breakfast himself. He took a seat at the small dining table, the Wigglytuff approaching him with a plate of scrambled eggs, bacon, and toast. The Pokemon placed the plate down in front of Paul, receiving a scratch behind the ear in return.
"Thanks, Ginger," Paul said, the Wigglytuff clearly enjoying the affection being bestowed upon her.
"Tuff!" she replied happily, before returning to her place at Rebecca's side, helping her to gather utensils and napkins. Rebecca soon took a seat across from Paul with her own breakfast.
"So what are you guys going to do now?" Rebecca asked as she began to eat.
"Well, some dude approached us after the concert last night," Paul responded. "He invited us to an audition for a big metal show happening in Nimbasa."
"Sounds exciting!" Rebecca exclaimed. She was happy her brother had found a good hobby and group of friends. So many of her colleagues during her days at college were into drugs, alcohol, and non-stop partying. While those activities could also be associated with being in a rock band, Rebecca knew her brother was better than that. She had come to know Matthew and Sammy as well, and she knew they wouldn't foray into that kind of fleeting, baseless extravagance.
Just then, Paul's Xtranceiver started beeping. He looked down at the device; he had an E-mail from Matthew: "Fw: Audition Info."
"Well, that's was quick," Paul remarked. He looked over the E-mail. It had the information on how the audition process would work, as well as a map attached with the location of the club marked. He pondered over the information for a minute as he ate, Rebecca just looking at him out of curiosity.
"What is it?" she asked, raising a single eyebrow in confusion.
"That guy I just mentioned. Matthew got his E-mail." Paul responded, his eyes not leaving the Xtranceiver. The place was a club in Nimbasa City, aptly named "Metal Sound." It was a hot-spot for metal-heads, and often featured several wild and out-of-control events, born of the genre it supported. Paul had never been there, but he had heard of the place before. Definitely a change of pace from the classic rock they played their last concert, but Paul liked heavier music better anyways.
"Awesome!" Rebecca cheered. She was genuinely happy for her brother, especially seeing him and his band getting invited to gigs like this. Paul had finished eating, as Wigglytuff hurried over to grab his plate, placing it gently in the sink. Paul stood up, putting his Xtranceiver in his pocket.
"I think I'm going to go and scout out this club. Get a feel for what kind of venue we're working with." he said as he turned towards Rebecca. "Thanks for the breakfast, it was really good."
"Anytime, bro!" Rebecca chimed, waving goodbye. She had finished eating as well, grabbing her own plate and walking over to the sink to wash the dishes. Paul pocketed his hands in his jacket as he made his way towards the front door.
Paul stepped outside, greeted by the now-familiar sands of Route 4 blowing in the wind. He covered his face, reaching into his pocket and pulling out his sunglasses to shield his eyes. He briefly surveyed the landscape, the urban construction obscuring the once-desert landscape. Despite the construction though, the route was still affected by sandstorms, like on this particular day.
Paul began to walk north, heading towards Nimbasa city, trekking through the sandstorm. He heard the unique sounds of the Maractus in the deserts beyond the mountains, the cactus Pokemon becoming very active during the dust storms. He saw a few Darumaka running for cover in the alleys, finding a safe place to hide and tucking in their limbs. Paul wished he could have the luxury of just curling up like that at will. He pushed against the winds as he was nearing his destination.
After some minutes of walking, passing through Join Avenue and avoiding all the solicitations of said avenue, Paul had made it to Nimbasa City. It was easily one of the most populated cities in Unova, second only to Castelia city. Large skyscrapers towered above the ground, each one lined with bright, dazzling billboards and advertisem*nts. The carnival to the east was bustling with activity, the laughs of children carrying their sound throughout the cityscape. The cheering of the audiences from the stadiums up north was also audible. Add all of that to the sounds of the regular day-to-day activity of the city - the cars driving by, people on their Xtranceivers and Holocasters, and the wild Pokemon fluttering throughout the city - and you had one of the liveliest cities this side of Unova by far.
A fair bit of wandering around Nimbasa, making a few turns left where they should have been right, Paul had finally located the club in question. The location itself was rather unassuming, built into the side of an old apartment complex. This section of Nimbasa was probably the only one that was not covered in neon lights and displays, giving the club and the surrounding area a run-down feeling to it. It didn’t bother Paul though, who was slightly put-off by the extravagance of the rest of the city. This section, though older, had a quaint, homey feel to it. It was old, but it was also quiet, and had a certain aura of peace.
Paul walked up to the entrance of the club: a large, wooden door with a single window in the center. Above the frame of the door hung a sign, adorned with a simple font spelling the club’s name: “Metal Sound.” Just below the title was an illustration depicting the Pokemon Steelix, complete with it’s species’ signature, toothy grin. A single piece of paper was taped to the front of the door, with a simple message on the front.
“Auditions inside.”
“Wait, what?” Paul said to himself as he looked over the paper. “That Stirns guy said auditions would be in a month…”
Paul hesitantly pushed the door open, immediately greeted by the sounds of dampened drums and electric guitars. The door closed behind him as a stream of conditioned air surrounded him immediately. It was freezing compared to the relatively warm weather outside, causing him to shiver slightly. Paul took a look around the club; to the right was a standard bar, shelves lined with dozens of drinks behind it, both alcoholic and non-alcoholic. To the left, a door leading to an long hallway, leading to storage and the backstage area. Looking towards the center, there was a railing the guarded the edge of the platform, standing above a large pit: the main audience. Two sets of stairs led down into the pit, which looked large enough to encompass at least a hundred people, if not much more.
On a raised platform, above the audience pit, stood the main stage. There were dozens of speakers and amplifiers that lined the front, sides, and top of the stage. Bright spotlights cast their shine down on the stage from above. The stage was currently occupied by a musical trio, with one man on drums, one on bass, and the last one on guitar and singing. They had a very casual look about them, with medium length hair as they were bobbing their heads to their own music. The guitarist started to sing a chorus, his voice slightly scratchy, yet still in tune, as he belted out the lyrics:
“He’s the one who likes all our pretty songs, and he likes to sing along, and he likes to shoot his gun! But he don’t know what it means… don’t know what it means, when I say yeah!”
In the audience was a table, two gentlemen sitting with various papers, taking notes of the performance on stage. As Paul walked over to the railing that looked over the audience, towards the stage, someone behind him tapped his shoulder.
“You here for auditions?” A man came up behind him. He wore a simple black T-shirt and jeans, the word STAFF etched across his shirt in bold, white font.
“Well, yes and no,” Paul said, turning to face the man. “I guess I am, but I was told auditions would be in a month.”
“What’s your band name?” The man plainly asked.
“The Sevii Island,” Paul responded. The man looked over a clipboard, flipping through the pages until he managed to find the entry.
“Yeah, says here your audition is not due until the end of the month. You can stay and watch, I suppose, but the bar is currently closed,” the man added. He was about to turn and walk away, until Paul spoke up again.
“Wait, exactly how many bands are auditioning?” Paul asked. If the auditions were being held for the entire month, there had to be a large amount of bands participating, far more than Paul had anticipated.
“Quite a bit,” the man replied. He flipped through his clipboard again, estimating the amount of bands. “I’d say… around fifty or so, give or take a few. Not everybody is going to make it in, though.”
“Fifty bands?!” Paul thought to himself, taken aback. The thought alone was worrying. They’d have to go up against fifty other acts. He wasn’t sure how many were actually going to make it in, but he and the rest of his band certainly had their work cut out for them. They’d have to really practice and work hard if they wanted to stand out. “Okay… thanks, then.” Paul said calmly, as the man turned and walked down the hallway.
Paul turned back towards the stage, leaning forward on the railing as he watched the act on stage. “Fifty bands…” Paul couldn’t get the thought out of his head. It’s not that he was worried about the ability of him and his band, but more so about the ability of the other acts. What if The Sevii Island was outclassed and couldn’t make the cut?
“Hey, Dan the downer, you lost? Hot Topic is down the street!”
Paul turned to his right, seeing a group of people snickering at him, most likely making fun of his manner of dress, specifically his beanie cap which brought his longer hair over his eyes. The group was comprised of two men, one woman, and one Pokemon, a Nidoking. Judging by the instrument cases they carried with them, Paul figured they were one of the auditioning bands.
“Wow, did you come up with that insult all by yourself?” Paul quipped back. Were they really making fun of his clothes? “What is this, middle-school?” he thought to himself.
“Well, I’m just saying,” one of the men spoke as he stood up, wearing a simple black T-shirt and a tattered pair of jeans. “This is a metal club. Not exactly dressed for the part, you know?” he sneered in Paul’s direction, speaking with a smug, haughty tone.
“I’m sorry I’m not as cliche as you,” Paul came back in retort.
“Ohhh, sassy one, aren’t we?” the man replied again, unfazed by Paul’s comment.
“Oh, would you come off it already, Felix? This chump’s not worth the time.” The female of the group spoke up, clearly irritated by the exchange. She sat with an annoyed look on her face, her long black hair tied into pigtails that hung behind her.
“Fine,” Felix said calmly, crossing his arms as he sat back down. “Hope you’re not here for auditions, kid, because you might as well just leave the way you came in.”
“So sure of yourself?” Paul said back. Felix’s smug confidence was beginning to wear on Paul’s nerves, and he had only heard four sentences from the guy.
“Hard not to be,” Felix said bluntly. “This isn’t our first rodeo, and it’s definitely not the last. We’ve been bringing mayhem to Unova for a little over a year now. From what I’ve heard so far today, we’ve got nothing to worry about. All these bands? Posers. Every one of them. Reaper Cloth is going to dominate this competition.”
“We’ll see about that,” Paul responded, growing increasingly agitated by this man’s arrogance. “Don’t count your Torchics before they hatch.”
“Now who’s sure of themselves?” Felix stated smugly. “Where’s the rest of your amazing band?”
“Not here, I’m just looking around. Need to get a feel of the place before we bring the house down.” Paul stated, countering Felix’s confidence with his own.
“That’s good,” Felix said. “Wouldn’t want to discourage them before they even had a chance to audition,” he jeered, laughing slightly as he did. The woman sitting next to Felix simply sighed in exasperation, before raising her voice.
“Felix, for the love of Arceus, just shut up!” she yelled. “Seriously, you’re such a child, Felix!”
“Hmph,” Felix scoffed, shrugging as he sat. “Whatever. We’ll see who’s who at the show, assuming you actually pass the auditions.”
“I’ve got better things to do anyways,” Paul finished. He was fed up with this Felix person’s attitude, promptly turning around to leave the club. Despite his convictions from earlier, he had a new-found determination to pass the auditions and make it in the show. It didn’t matter if there were fifty, a hundred, or even a thousand other performers auditioning; The Sevii Island was going to make it, if for no other reason than to make Felix eat his own words. Paul put his hands into his jacket pockets, greeted once again by the warm Nimbasa air as he made his way home.
END OF CHAPTER SEVEN
*****
Yes I know Nirvana isn't considered metal. Wait wait wait, what are you doing? Why do you have a pitchfork? Put that down! Get away from me!
*runs and hides*
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