armstrong Blog and Journals

Kiley's POV

I've got to say, we played pretty good. Even through all the drama that occurred before we were on. I can tell Cassy is still being bitchy about what Jerry said to her, but I mean come on. Who is she to say something like that to him, to anyone? Plain rude, that's what it is. The first time I met her I really thought we could be friends, but after a few weeks, it just clearly wasn't meant to be.

"Yo, Kiley, hello?" Dom shouts over to me and I realize that I am blocking his way through the narrow doorway from backstage to the parking lot. I quickly snap out of my daze and step aside.

"Sorry Dom." I reply. I let him past and then go back to the stage to help Jerry unplug and disconnect everything. He looked a little flustered trying to take the black tape off the floor and had to stop for a second to clear his head or something.

"Need help?" I leaned down while he looked up at me.

"Did you get all the tape off your keyboard? We've got like 5 more minutes." He replied looking around the stage at all the unfinished work.

How stupid of me, it must of looked so obvious that I wanted to help him. My keyboard isn't even close to being packed up. I get up without saying a word and just sigh. I start putting things away and notice Cassy at the bar in the back of the room flirting with some guys. You've got to be kidding me! I catch Toby's eye as he carries speakers off the stage and he just shakes his head.

"Don't even try Kiley, she will start another argument."

This comment catches Jerry's attention and he looks toward Cassy and gets up from the floor. He makes his way off the stage and over to the back of the bar while some fans pat him on the back and congratulate his performance. He ignores them and just keeps moving towards the back of the room, to Cassy. I notice him tap her shoulder lightly and she looks at him like he did the most awful thing in the world. They start to bicker and it almost turns into a heated argument until one of the guys Cassy was flirting with says something to Jerry. He just walks off looking very pissed off. I haul my Moog off the stage and set it down by all our equipment.

Jerry starts coming towards me and I can see that he is in deep thought. He bumps into me from not looking up, looks up, then keeps on going. What was that all about?

I follow him out of the venue, out the back door towards our cars and stop with him when we are stopped by a man in a black suit.

"You guys did a great job, I have to say I was very impressed. How long have you guys been together?" the man doesn't even look at me, just at Jerry. Of course. Always Jerry. He's probably going to ask him all these questions about his father and his father's band. I move past Jerry and the annoying man towards Dom's truck. He' already in the driver's seat about to turn the engine on, when he looks at me.

"What's taking Jerry? Don't you guys want to make it to IHOP before it closes? Hah! Just kidding! IHOP never closes!" I roll my eyes at his sense of humor and lean in the passenger window. "I don't know. That guy's complimenting him. This might take awhile." Dom stares at me while I say this and I glare at him.

"What?" I snap. He looks away saying, "Nothing" in a sing song voice.

Finally Jerry makes his way over to his car and gets in. Cassy gets into Dom's car and Toby and I head into Jerry's.

"What was that all about?" I ask Jerry as he starts to pull out of his parking spot.

Jerry has a hint of a smile on his face, "Well, that guy really liked the way we played and would like to hear us again. Guys, he owns a record company! Maybe this is our big break!" Jerry starts getting all excited and I smile back at him.

"That's great! Did you get contact info with him?"

"Yup, I told him we play Saturday night and he said he will bring his co-workers to see what they have to say."

I look at Jerry and he notice that he looks happy, but nervous.

"What's with that look?"

"Oh, I just hope Cassy gets her shit together you know? Like we are this close to making it and if she pulls stunts like being late and not helping out, I will seriously... I don't know, I just hope she wont do anything like that again."

I couldn't agree more.

Dom's POV

"I really hate this song, change the station." Cassy mumbles to me as she rummages through her gigantic leather purse for what, I don't know. I hesitate to grab the knob because it's a classic. Who Are You by The Who is pulsing through my truck and I want nothing more than to keep it on and rock my head to the beat. I decide to ignore her request by turning it up a notch and pound against my steering wheel with my pointer fingers as we stop at a red light. "They sound like fucking owls! Turn it off!" I continue to pound and scream the chorus while Cassy has her shit fit. "Dom, fuck, turn it off!" She is screaming now, and it's scaring the shit out of me. Her tone is one that I've never heard before and the look on her face tells me that she just might kill me with her huge Donald and Berkley whatever bag. Who knew someone could be so annoyed by The Who? I turn the volume down and change the station. Katy Perry's voice resonates in my speakers and I roll down the window so that I don't throw up at the sound of her autotuned voice. Cassy faces the window, quite aware that she has just had a wicked outburst with what seemed like no apparent reason. But I know Cassy and I know there's a reason. She just isn't telling me, and I'm not sure if she ever will. Her arms fold across her chest like she's cold, but I know she isn't because she rolls down her own window and stares off outside of it. I wish I could catch a glimpse of her face in the mirror, read what's going through her head by the glaze of her eyes. The light turns green and someone honks at me from behind because I'm not paying attention. They honk again. And again. In my rearview mirror I see that it's Jerry behind us. I hit the gas and speed ahead so I can get into the left turning lane. He holds the horn down, being bold as usual, as I pull into the IHOP parking lot. What an ass. Be he forgot I have his favorite guitar in my backseat.

I turn my engine and lights off and sit there in the darkness. Cassy is checking her face with a small compact from her purse, wiping down around her eyes and chin. She's been crying. "Hey, are you okay?"

"Just leave it, Dom. Please." The passenger seatbelt clanks against my truck's interior panel as the door squeaks open and is slammed shut. I lean back in my seat with my arms behind my head and take a deep breath in and out. My eyes close.

"Arrgghhh!" Suddenly Jerry has catapulted himself into my open window, his face squished against my shifter and his hands dangerously close to my balls.

"Dude! Get off!" I'm trying to push him back out the window, but I know it's just a stupid move on my part. He's shimmying his waist and legs into my truck and there is nothing that I can do to stop it. My hands instantly cover my groin area while I close my eyes and hope he doesn't kick my face in on accident. "Smart, Jerry, real smart." I'm not pissed, surprisingly. I just want to get inside and get some of those chocolate chip pancakes. Foooood.

We take up a large roundish booth in the corner and begin hounding the menus for something to fill our starving bodies with.

"So guys, this recording scout came over to me after the show and gave me his card. I thought maybe we should discuss it." Jerry mentioned after we get some waters. He takes a long sip from his water and waits for comments.

"Remember what happened last time?" Toby mentions. For once he doesn't have his phone in his hands. Instead he's playing around with a napkin, folding it into some kind of origami looking thing.

"Maybe we should bring in a lawyer to read over the contract. A cheap one. Like from those 1-800 commericals?" Cassy adds.

"I have a better idea," Jerry grabs his water again and takes a few long sips before continuing. "Before I mention it though, you have to promise to be open minded. No unnecessary backlash." We all nod, saying our 'yeahs' and pretending that we're not going through the menus because we are starving. "We can have my father look over the contract. He knows his shit."

"I vote 'no'." Cassy voices. "I don't want people to think-"

"That my dad got us signed, I know. But hear me out," Drawn out sip. "If he's there maybe they won't bullshit us because they will know who he is."

"That's like him standing there making them sign us. No way. I refuse." Cassy crosses her arms again, her black hair bouncing around her head as she shakes it incessantly.

"Cass, even if we get signed, we don't know if we are even going anywhere. All that guy has is some mention of us, a copy of our basement album, and our live show from tonight. That's what he has to make his decision on, and he already thinks we are a good idea. There are four other guys like him on our backburners, excluding that one unfortunate mishap. We need to start really digging in and narrowing down. Do we really want to do this or are we just bullshitting?" With that he takes the last slurp of his water and the cup is dry. Everyone is looking up from their menus now, glancing around at one another. I rub my face and wait for the table to erupt into chaos. 1, 2, 3, 4...

Silence.

"I say we research these guys before we even get into contracts. I want to know who they've recorded, projects they are working on. We need to know who we are dealing with." Kiley says. There's actually emotion in her voice, which is almost as scary as bearing witness to Cassy's outburst in the car.

"Great thinking." Jerry says and goes to high five her. She looks up at him unamused, that look she always has on her face making me want to take a step back from her. I can't though, because she is sitting sandwiched between Jerry and me, and Cassy is on my left with her purse wedged against my thigh. Fucking Donnie and Berkshire and their ginormous purses. What does she have in there anyways?

"Ready to order, or do you need a few more minutes?" Our waitress, a tall red headed mom chick has her notepad out and a smile on. Toby begins ordering from his side of the table, asking her a zillion questions about every dish on the first fold of the menu.

"You drank that water pretty fast." Kiley mentions quietly to Jerry as she looks through the menu one last time. I glance up and see that Jerry has Kiley's water up to his mouth, no straw this time. He's just downing that thing like he's just taken a trek through the desert. "And now you're drinking mine. Wonderful." Only Kiley could pull that off with the right amount of sarcasm and zero emotion. "What's your number?"

"Don't know, don't care." Resume gulping.

"And the sausage, can I substitute that with maybe one slice of bacon, and then a sausage, and then an extra biscuit?" Toby asks. The waitress seems to be getting rather frustrated with him, so I offer up his order so I can stop being obvious about listening to Jerry and Kiley have one of their weird, emotionless arguments.

"Just give him the eggs with bacon and a biscuit. He never eats the sausage. And a chocolate milk, since I know he ordered a soda and he's going to steal my drink instead. Thanks." I nod the waitress on to Jerry and collect the menus from the table. The rest of us order and continue on about the recording dude.

"We should get together and discuss the options. I think I have all the cards, so maybe we can look them all up next practice and figure out what's going on."

"I don't want your dad involved in any of this." Cassy has her arms crossed and she looks like she's going to stick her tongue out.

"We haven't even gotten that far, so let's just deal with it all as it comes." I mediate. I just want my food and a nice relaxing evening without fighting and bitching and moaning.

"Do you think that waitress can give me sausage instead of the bacon? I really want the sausage." Toby asks. I ignore him, as does everyone else. That's when I feel a vibration and take my phone from my pocket to see if I got a message. Once it's in my hand though, the seat of the booth continues to vibrate. Then stop. Then vibrate. Every few seconds. I look over to Jerry, since there is movement going on over there, and see him whip out his insulin pump. He clicks around on the thing and puts it back in his pocket. I can see that he is biting his lip, a sure sign that he's messed up big time but doesn't want to admit to it.

Kiley plays around with her straw wrapper in front of her, her eyes staring at the table with that crazy stare that she's so good at. The one where you know she's not really paying attention to anything going on around her and is off in her own head, thinking a zillion things at once. Still, something tells me she knows what's going on with Jerry. She just doesn't want to say anything; she doesn't need to communicate with him.

The table starts engaging in some kind of talk about a trip to the beach, Kiley and Jerry adding offers to drive or pay for gas like their little "silent" conversation never happened. Cassy complains, as per usual, her arm animations knocking me in the head and arm. I doze out for what is probably twenty minutes as I sit with my knees knobbed against each other and my arms squished against my chest because there is no room to move or breathe or do anything. My brain is busy wondering how the bunch of us even get along as the table is busy discussing drives home, band practice, and beach plans. Snippets of my friend's conversation float around my head until I'm brought back to life by the smell of pancake batter.

"Food's here!" Jerry announces for the whole restaurant to hear, though there's barely anyone up this late. The table becomes a stage for commotion as plates are passed around. Cassy elbows me in the rib. Toby complains about his lack of sausage. In the craziness going on, I feel my phone vibrate and alert me that I've gotten a text. It's Jordan.

I'm sorry.

Kiley's POV

So Jerry is driving recklessly down the highway as we head on home after IHOP. I'm pretty pissed that his sugar is skyrocketing as we speak, especially since I know he really doesn't care. Take his low where he drank that juice and downed all those glucotabs and add his midnight snack of breakfast grease and you have the makings of a nutty driver. I glance over at the speedometer. 80mph.

"Jerry, slow down. I'd like to get home in one piece, thanks." I say over the hum of his engine. My eyes follow the orange marker as it moves on the speed clock. 85. 90. "Jerry!" I feel the car decelerate and watch as Jerry's head starts falling side to side as he lollygags behind the wheel. Great. I coax him into pulling over and switch places with him. Ten minutes later we're at his house, waiting for the cast iron gates to open and let us onto the property. Jerry is drunk on sugar in the seat next to me, mumbling and leaning against the door with his head. That's when I know it's going to be one of those nights.

I try and support him as we enter his house, catching his mother in her robe on the way down the stairs. She rolls her eyes at the sight of him and makes a short comment, "When will that boy learn how to handle his alcohol?" I laugh nervously and continue trying to get him up the stairs, aware that his mother is just as zonked as Jerry by the way she is gripping that banister rail. Once I get him to his room he flops on the bed with his arms stretched over the sides. His knees hit the floor. If only his mother really knew what was going on...

"Kiles!" is muffled into his comforter.

"What?" I grumble as I stick his finger for the millionth time tonight. The screen blinks back a nice 303 in my face. Sugar? Way high. Insulin? You betcha. "You're over 300, numskull."

"Kiley, I-there's something I want need to tell you." I'm already going through his mini-fridge though, searching for the black zip bag with the insulin in it.

"Yeah?" I'm already rolling the vial to warm it up as I ask this, ready to grab a syringe from the box on his desk and give it to him so that I can go.

"I think, I think-" He pulls himself up onto the bed and flops onto his back, squirming around like he's had one too many beers and he can't figure out which way is up.

"Are you going to throw up?" I draw the right amount of liquid and tap it for air bubbles.

"Nooo." He whines. "No, I just wanted to tell you." I lift up his shirt and grab a chunk of skin to stab. "I'm in love with you. I love you." There I am, sitting next to him on his bed, ready to stick him with a needle, and he confesses his love, drunk, it seems, out of his mind.

"You need this." As I go to inject the insulin though, Jerry comes right up at me with his lips and matches, surprisingly, his onto my own. Caught off guard, I drop the needle and let him kiss me, at least three decent kisses, which I so shouldn't let him do. I kiss him back, but it's my body's doing, not my brain's. For a moment I'm lost in time. I feel dazed and confused, numb. That's when I feel the cold syringe against my hand and realize where I am and who I'm with. I back off immediately and grab the needle, breathless and so damn confused at what is going on.

"Kiles." He falls back on his bed and smiles at me like a child, grinning. I don't answer him because I know he's on the verge of sleep and I'm not really sure what I'd say anyways. I pinch his skin again like I've done so many times before, but it feels so different now. Something has changed, and I'm not liking how it feels. I push the plunger and watch his eyes close, hoping he forgets everything that has happened in the last five minutes. I clean up, shut his lights off, and lay beside him with his meter and a test strip ready. My hand goes to stroke his hair, but I stop it. Things are changing, things that can threaten the very foundation of our friendship, of the band. No one can know what just happened.

I listen to his breathing and wait for his breaths to become deeper and longer. That's my cue for a final sugar test, the one Jerry never even knows that I do. A nice number comes up on the meter and I decide it's time for me to go. I scurry on out of his house, locking the door behind me and leaving through the gate. From there it's a five block walk home, towards the middle-class section of town. Twenty minutes later I crawl into my own bed in a t-shirt and my undies, my hair a complete disaster from the night's events. I lay there in the darkness, wondering if tonight is going to be another sleepless night of worrying, hoping, mantras. I wake up after a solid six hours of sleep confused because I've actually gotten real sleep for the first time in two months. I try to rake through my brain and figure out if maybe I had a certain alcohol or something, but all I can remember is that kiss, the way our lips matched and felt magnetized when we parted. All I can see in my head is that smile and him closing his eyes. And I wonder, when did my life get so complicated?