Fake

‘What is your most treasured memory?’ Was the next thing Bugatti asked.

Andy didn’t reply that day, or the next. The weekend came and went and Monday brought a handbill for the school talent show. She signed up Andy’s non-existent band, TRIGGERED for the show and wrote down the names of the other bands performing:
The Paper Kutz
Plastic Heartss
The Unitards

With three weeks until the talent show, she set out to find out who was in each band. Plastic Heartss was a three man band composed of triplets in junior year; Jordan, Jacob and Jack and were searching for a singer because Jack was having a hard time playing guitar and singing at the same time. Bugatti mentioned Andy and was told he was in. Just like that, without even hearing him sing. Too easy, she thought so she checked out the other bands.

The Unitards were serious about music. They’d played every underground club in town after starting out playing skate parks and house parties. Their singer was legendary for his keg parties, bootlegging for next to nothing and he could get anything anyone wanted. Clearly his band would never replace him, but after a brief conversation involving Bugatti buying some vodka from him she discovered their guitar player wasn’t working for them.

“That was perf.” Bugatti smiled, tucked a tendril of hair behind her ear and bit her lip. “Do you know any Misfits songs?”

“Shhhyeah.” He scoffed. “I know all their songs.” He started playing something and she pretended she knew it. He was good, but a guitar player and a singer don’t exactly make a competition winning band.

Bugatti was conveniently polishing clarinets for volunteer credits during lunch time when she found a drummer practicing paradiddles over and over. He literally didn’t notice her. “That was good.” She said quietly when he paused. He kept playing, she kept polishing. When he got up to leave the room he stopped at the door and said, ‘thanks.’

“What’s the deal with that drummer kid?” Bugatti asked her new bestie Chloe.

“His name’s Chris, he’s mute.” Chloe rolled her eyes.

“No he’s not.” Bugatti snapped.

“Yeah he is, he’s never said a word to anyone.” Chloe rolled her eyes again.

“He said a word to me.” Bugatti giggled.

“No he didn’t.” She Lol’d. “He doesn’t speak, ever.”

“Has anyone tried talking to him?” Bugatti chortled.

“Like yeah.” Chloe said. “All the time. Why are you so obsessed with him?” She questioned.

Bugatti dropped it but every day at lunch time she found something new to do in the music room as an excuse to hear Chris practice. “Are you in a band?” She said , she was ignored.

“I’m starting a band.” She tried, standing directly in front of his floor tom. “I need a drummer.”

He played without missing a beat and she returned to tuning guitars with a tuning fork. Before he left the room that day he said, “When’s practice?”

“I’ll get back to you.” She was sooooo happy. “OMG THANKYOUSOMUCH.” She crammed her words together like julienned carrots with six handfuls of raisins on a horrible salad.

Notes

I mean srsly, who even puts white raisins on a salad? Worst token fruit ever #saladruined c;