Why Can't You Just Be Happy For Me?
Rita's Italian Ice.
"I want Rita's, you want anything while I'm out?"
Chauntelle shook her head, "Nah, I'm good, I just had ice cream with Devin."
I shrugged, "Suit yourself, I'll be right back."
"Don't crash my car Michelle!"
I rolled my eyes and closed the door.
As usual on a Thursday morning, Rita's was dead.
I walked in, "Hello, I'd like a large Vanilla milkshake please, easy on the whipped cream."
The shaggy haired server nodded, "Coming right up, that'll be four dollars."
I handed him a five, and he handed me a dollar.
I stood at the counter waiting for my milkshake.
The door opened and three rowdy boys stumbled in.
"Riannnnn!" The tall darkheaded boy crowed.
The server, obviously named Rian, turned and gave them all a look, before flashing me an apologetic smile, and returning to the making of my milkshake.
"Hi."
This coming from the tallest, skinniest, darkheaded boy.
I smiled politely, "Hi."
"I'm Jack, this is Alex, and that's Zack."
"I'm Michelle, nice to meet all of you."
"We're here waiting on Rian."
"That's nice."
"Jack, you bonehead, you're freaking her out, shut up."
This coming from the Alex character.
He smiled, "He can be so annoying sometimes. We don't really bring him into public much."
"Um, I'm your guitarist, I have to be in public with you guys when we play gigs!"
"You guys are in a band?" I asked.
Alex nodded, "All Time Low."
"Sounds badass. What do you play?"
"Rock mostly." Jack replied.
"Sweet."
"Will you two stop terrorizing the customers? You're going to get me fired."
Rian handed me my milkshake with a smile, "Thanks, come again."
"Thanks. And um, good luck with your band."
"Thank you!" Jack screamed.
On the drive home, something kept nagging at me in the back of my mind.
"Chaua-bunn, I'm back!"
"Don't call me that. And what the hell took you so long?"
"I took the scenic route." I joked, handing her the keys.
"Did you refill the tank?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
"No, I used my last five dollars on a milkshake."
"Michelle, when are you going to learn to grow up and be responsible. You can't just rely on everyone else to hand you shit for the rest of your life."
"Newsflash Chauntelle, I'm not relying on anyone. I HAVE job, I have a life. I'm just low on money because I have to pay bills!"
"Your job is the most mediocre of all jobs Michelle, it's minimum wage! And if you didn't insist on living the life of luxury on a measly paycheck, you might have more money!"
"Really Chauntelle? I wear fucking Wal-mart brand clothes and drive a beat up 86' Ford pick-up truck, which is in the shop right now, and another reason why I'm yet again broke!"
"You have three Gucci purses."
"They were all gifts! And I have two. I sold one to pay for the repairs on my truck!"
"Doesn't make you any less irresponsible."
"Oh go home Chauntelle. I've had enough of you for one day."
Chauntelle was my sister, two years older, and thought she was the queen of the world who knew EVERYTHING.
After she stormed out in a huff, I microwaved last night's hamburger helper and plopped on the couch to watch TV.
"Today on As The World Turns."
"Boring." I flipped the channel.
"This week on Basketball wives."
"Lame!" I flipped it again.
"Today on Warped Tour Roadies."
"Now this is more like it."
I dreamed of one day being a musician and playing Warped tour.
I'd been to Warped tour every year since I was ten.
Every year, I wanted more, and more to be up on that stage, and have the crowd cheering me on, the moshpit raging, and the adrenaline pumping.
But something like that doesn't happen over night.
Unfortunately.
I heard a knock on the front door, "Michelle!"
I groaned.
I hated my mother's "Surprise pop-by visits" because much like my sister, my mother thought I was a lazy slob.
"Hey mom."
"How's work been?"
"Oh you know, work."
"That's lovely dear, have you been looking for another job?"
"No, because there is nothing wrong with mine."
"There are so many problems with your job Michelle."
"Mom, I'm a fucking waitress at a diner. I get paid mostly in tips."
"But it's not enough to pay the bills."
"It pays the bills fine."
"Your father said he called you yesterday, but your phone went to voicemail, are you avoiding us now?"
"No, my phone service was terminated the other day."
"Why?"
"Because I was late paying the bill."
"Exactly! You need a better job! What if something happened, and I needed to call you, then what?"
"Mother relax, when I was a baby, nobody even had cell phones yet. Those people survived, and so will I, at least until I can get my bill paid."
"Michelle, I don't want you to be the child that disappoints me, but you're sure working your way up there. You need to give up on that silly little pipe dream you've been chasing. It's never going to happen. Go to college, get an education and get a real job!"
"Mom, It is going to happen. I'm going to make it happen. And then you're going to regret saying that to me. I don't want to work at a 9 to 5 desk job like you, Angelo, Gabi, Chris, Derek and Chauntelle. And I love dad, but I don't want my greatest achievement in life to be owning a chain of Burger King restaurants in the Tri-State area. I want to be somebody. Somebody famous, Somebody whose name is known all across the globe for being amazing and talented."
"I knew we never should've taken you to that Madonna concert as a kid."
I laughed, "I wish I hadn't gone. I hate Madonna's music."
"Michelle, get your life together. And soon, or we'll cut you out of the will."
She then exited with the slam of a door.
"Wouldn't that be the biggest tragedy of my life, to be cut out of a will that would probably only have left me the ownership of a restaurant chain that I hate." I mumbled.
The next day, I got up and set out on a job hunt, mostly to keep my mother off my ass.
I walked into Rita's and saw the same guy working as yesterday.
"Hey, might you guys be hiring?"
"Yes, would you like an application?"
"Please sir."
"Maybe if you get hired, I'll get weekends off."
I laughed, "I'll be working two jobs, so don't count on it."
He grinned, and his smile was toothy and bright.
He stuck out his hand, "We haven't formally met, but I'm Rian Dawson."
I shook his hand, "Michelle Kennedy."
"I'm sorry about my friends, they can be loud, obnoxious, and annoying."
I shook my head, "It's totally cool they seem like great guys."
"They are pretty awesome dudes, you just have to get past the loud, obnoxious, annoying part."
"I hear your in a band."
"I'm a drummer."
"Radical! I'm an aspiring musician myself."
"You play?"
I nodded, "Guitar, drums, bass, violin, piano, clarinet, you name it, I can probably play it, plus I can sing."
"That's awesome, are you in a band?"
I shook my head, "Unfortunately no. I can't find a group of people that I can handle being around long enough to write songs or play shows."
He laughed, "I know what you mean. But I've learned to handle the guys pretty well."
"As my mother always says, Patience is a virtue."
"Yeah. How'd you like to come sit in on a practice sometime? The guys and I would love to have a fellow musician tell us what they think of our music."
"That would be so totally tubular."
"Tubular?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry, I sit and watch 80's movies all day long, and the slang is like burned into my brain. Tubular means cool."
"Oh, righteous."
I smiled, "Now you're talking my language."
"So, um we're practicing tomorrow night at my house. Here's the address. I'll see you there at half-past six."
I nodded and took the paper.
"Tubular. See you then."
I turned to walk out.
"I hope you get the job, you seem like a pretty righteous chick, I think you'd be fun to work with."
"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."
Chauntelle shook her head, "Nah, I'm good, I just had ice cream with Devin."
I shrugged, "Suit yourself, I'll be right back."
"Don't crash my car Michelle!"
I rolled my eyes and closed the door.
As usual on a Thursday morning, Rita's was dead.
I walked in, "Hello, I'd like a large Vanilla milkshake please, easy on the whipped cream."
The shaggy haired server nodded, "Coming right up, that'll be four dollars."
I handed him a five, and he handed me a dollar.
I stood at the counter waiting for my milkshake.
The door opened and three rowdy boys stumbled in.
"Riannnnn!" The tall darkheaded boy crowed.
The server, obviously named Rian, turned and gave them all a look, before flashing me an apologetic smile, and returning to the making of my milkshake.
"Hi."
This coming from the tallest, skinniest, darkheaded boy.
I smiled politely, "Hi."
"I'm Jack, this is Alex, and that's Zack."
"I'm Michelle, nice to meet all of you."
"We're here waiting on Rian."
"That's nice."
"Jack, you bonehead, you're freaking her out, shut up."
This coming from the Alex character.
He smiled, "He can be so annoying sometimes. We don't really bring him into public much."
"Um, I'm your guitarist, I have to be in public with you guys when we play gigs!"
"You guys are in a band?" I asked.
Alex nodded, "All Time Low."
"Sounds badass. What do you play?"
"Rock mostly." Jack replied.
"Sweet."
"Will you two stop terrorizing the customers? You're going to get me fired."
Rian handed me my milkshake with a smile, "Thanks, come again."
"Thanks. And um, good luck with your band."
"Thank you!" Jack screamed.
On the drive home, something kept nagging at me in the back of my mind.
"Chaua-bunn, I'm back!"
"Don't call me that. And what the hell took you so long?"
"I took the scenic route." I joked, handing her the keys.
"Did you refill the tank?" She asked, narrowing her eyes at me.
"No, I used my last five dollars on a milkshake."
"Michelle, when are you going to learn to grow up and be responsible. You can't just rely on everyone else to hand you shit for the rest of your life."
"Newsflash Chauntelle, I'm not relying on anyone. I HAVE job, I have a life. I'm just low on money because I have to pay bills!"
"Your job is the most mediocre of all jobs Michelle, it's minimum wage! And if you didn't insist on living the life of luxury on a measly paycheck, you might have more money!"
"Really Chauntelle? I wear fucking Wal-mart brand clothes and drive a beat up 86' Ford pick-up truck, which is in the shop right now, and another reason why I'm yet again broke!"
"You have three Gucci purses."
"They were all gifts! And I have two. I sold one to pay for the repairs on my truck!"
"Doesn't make you any less irresponsible."
"Oh go home Chauntelle. I've had enough of you for one day."
Chauntelle was my sister, two years older, and thought she was the queen of the world who knew EVERYTHING.
After she stormed out in a huff, I microwaved last night's hamburger helper and plopped on the couch to watch TV.
"Today on As The World Turns."
"Boring." I flipped the channel.
"This week on Basketball wives."
"Lame!" I flipped it again.
"Today on Warped Tour Roadies."
"Now this is more like it."
I dreamed of one day being a musician and playing Warped tour.
I'd been to Warped tour every year since I was ten.
Every year, I wanted more, and more to be up on that stage, and have the crowd cheering me on, the moshpit raging, and the adrenaline pumping.
But something like that doesn't happen over night.
Unfortunately.
I heard a knock on the front door, "Michelle!"
I groaned.
I hated my mother's "Surprise pop-by visits" because much like my sister, my mother thought I was a lazy slob.
"Hey mom."
"How's work been?"
"Oh you know, work."
"That's lovely dear, have you been looking for another job?"
"No, because there is nothing wrong with mine."
"There are so many problems with your job Michelle."
"Mom, I'm a fucking waitress at a diner. I get paid mostly in tips."
"But it's not enough to pay the bills."
"It pays the bills fine."
"Your father said he called you yesterday, but your phone went to voicemail, are you avoiding us now?"
"No, my phone service was terminated the other day."
"Why?"
"Because I was late paying the bill."
"Exactly! You need a better job! What if something happened, and I needed to call you, then what?"
"Mother relax, when I was a baby, nobody even had cell phones yet. Those people survived, and so will I, at least until I can get my bill paid."
"Michelle, I don't want you to be the child that disappoints me, but you're sure working your way up there. You need to give up on that silly little pipe dream you've been chasing. It's never going to happen. Go to college, get an education and get a real job!"
"Mom, It is going to happen. I'm going to make it happen. And then you're going to regret saying that to me. I don't want to work at a 9 to 5 desk job like you, Angelo, Gabi, Chris, Derek and Chauntelle. And I love dad, but I don't want my greatest achievement in life to be owning a chain of Burger King restaurants in the Tri-State area. I want to be somebody. Somebody famous, Somebody whose name is known all across the globe for being amazing and talented."
"I knew we never should've taken you to that Madonna concert as a kid."
I laughed, "I wish I hadn't gone. I hate Madonna's music."
"Michelle, get your life together. And soon, or we'll cut you out of the will."
She then exited with the slam of a door.
"Wouldn't that be the biggest tragedy of my life, to be cut out of a will that would probably only have left me the ownership of a restaurant chain that I hate." I mumbled.
The next day, I got up and set out on a job hunt, mostly to keep my mother off my ass.
I walked into Rita's and saw the same guy working as yesterday.
"Hey, might you guys be hiring?"
"Yes, would you like an application?"
"Please sir."
"Maybe if you get hired, I'll get weekends off."
I laughed, "I'll be working two jobs, so don't count on it."
He grinned, and his smile was toothy and bright.
He stuck out his hand, "We haven't formally met, but I'm Rian Dawson."
I shook his hand, "Michelle Kennedy."
"I'm sorry about my friends, they can be loud, obnoxious, and annoying."
I shook my head, "It's totally cool they seem like great guys."
"They are pretty awesome dudes, you just have to get past the loud, obnoxious, annoying part."
"I hear your in a band."
"I'm a drummer."
"Radical! I'm an aspiring musician myself."
"You play?"
I nodded, "Guitar, drums, bass, violin, piano, clarinet, you name it, I can probably play it, plus I can sing."
"That's awesome, are you in a band?"
I shook my head, "Unfortunately no. I can't find a group of people that I can handle being around long enough to write songs or play shows."
He laughed, "I know what you mean. But I've learned to handle the guys pretty well."
"As my mother always says, Patience is a virtue."
"Yeah. How'd you like to come sit in on a practice sometime? The guys and I would love to have a fellow musician tell us what they think of our music."
"That would be so totally tubular."
"Tubular?" He asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Sorry, I sit and watch 80's movies all day long, and the slang is like burned into my brain. Tubular means cool."
"Oh, righteous."
I smiled, "Now you're talking my language."
"So, um we're practicing tomorrow night at my house. Here's the address. I'll see you there at half-past six."
I nodded and took the paper.
"Tubular. See you then."
I turned to walk out.
"I hope you get the job, you seem like a pretty righteous chick, I think you'd be fun to work with."
"Thanks. I'll see you tomorrow."
Notes
Okay, so this is my first crack at an ATL fanfic in a looooong time, so I hope it doesn't suck!Comments below would surely help me know how I'm doing, and keep me writing more.
Criticism is welcome, just please be nice about it, okay?
:)
-Harleyy.
