California, One Youth and Beauty Brigade
Number of posts : 16
Age : 31
Registration date : 2009-09-23
|Subject: California, One Youth and Beauty Brigade 9/25/2009, 6:54 am|| |
AAAlright guys--I started writing this when I was 16--so mind you it's a bit naive. Hope you read and enjoy!
Description: An (eventual) long story winding and revolving around the lives of Green Day and each of their children. This takes place in almost present future; Green day takes a break from being the biggest band in the world in order for Tre to get his life in order, Mike to attend college, and for Billie to try for another baby. Meanwhile, the Green Day sweet children somehow find themselves suffocating in the ever so present angst of the teen years. Jakob struggles with his sexuality while withholding his out of character crush on his best friend, Estelle, 's boyfriend. Joey, having received a full-ride soccer scholarship to a college in Berkley, has to deal with a mistake that very well may change his life forever. Ramona, feeling blunt bitterness for her ever so absent father, rebels against herself and becomes the quite promiscuous local whore. Estelle is forever known as the goody goody of her generation and gives into peer pressure. And Frankito is the drugged out artist who struggles to drown out his rockstar son image and build a reputation of his own. However, his constant need to be something else halts his own life and he is easily ignored and forgotten by his closest of companions. Before anyone ever notices--he is whipped away by his own callings to hitchhike across Nevada. In this story, the absence of one underrated Green Day offspring brings a formally inseparable group together. But not before various unsuspected dramas take their tow.
I sprinted down the hallway—uncompromising bodies colliding against mine, books flying in the air from disheveled students unfortunate enough to cross my path for that fleeting split second. Nonchalant seniors subtly step aside in growing boredom—not even giving me a second glance on their long journey to 8th hour assembly.
“JAKOB!” I heard four paces behind me and quickening—my head turning to reveal my face of up most horror.
“NO!” I simply cried—skidding a corner inelegantly to be greeted by an even heavier populated hall way. No matter—I sprint the long stretches down the hall—leaping obstructions and ducking under couples tenderly holding hands.
“I JUST WANT TO HELP!” God damn it, he was 5 steps away—my destination nearing 25 yards down the hall. I used my obvious advantage: unnaturally long legs, and spread my stride to an unmatchable length. I grin savagely as I sort of long jump the hallway, several students staring after me in what I can only pray was jealousy and awe.
Unfortunately, the fool echoing my footsteps is an extraordinarily agile athlete—using his perfectly chiseled thigh muscles to make a blind leap.
Regrettably, a blind leap for Joey is a bulls eye for most.
He successfully hooked his elbow around my knees—leading me to impending doom on the cold concrete floor. We both flew through the air, momentarily awed at the experience of free fall, before tumbling face first on the ground—heaving and considerably agitated.
Once skin hit concrete, my body leapt to action as I attempted to crawl away from the predator like Joey. He easily jumped upon my defensive body—crying out in an almost savage whoop of success.
10 fucking feet from the exit, and I’ve been captured sadistically.
Crowds scattered momentarily—mildly interested in the moderate display of incest: Joey straddling my hips, pinning my arms on either side of my head to the floor—me yelling obscenities as loud as I could muster.
“TELL ME YOU’RE JOKING!” Joey screamed over my yells of retaliation, his eyes staring into mine with hard determination.
“I DON’T HAVE TO TELL YOU ANYTHING!” I shrieked in an abnormally high voice—thrashing and twisting under his hold on the cold floor.
Joey sighed in annoyance—calming his flaming features, and relaxing—leaving all his weight resting subtly on my midriff.
“Jakob” He said calmly—
“NO! I WON’T FALL FOR YOUR SILLY TACTICS!” I yelled in insanity, receiving aghast glances from local civilians stepping apprehensively around us.
“Ta…Tactics? Did you just say tactics? You think my blatant concern for my little brother is considered one of my silly tactics? Oh I am appalled—I am ashamed….embarrassed…” Joey shook his head in disbelief— ignoring my retribution to his entrapment.
“SHUT UP!” I shrieked defensively, my arms trying it’s hardest to be released from his hold.
“I can sit here all day, Jake, it’s up to you if you want to play in on my “silly tactics””
How infuriating. I’m a good head taller than him yet he’s able to sit comfortable on my raging body with little or no resistance. Stupid genes.
“Joey” I said calmly once I had caught my breath, “let me go. We live in the same house—we’ll talk about it then.”
“NO, oh no sir. You’ll find some way to wriggle out of my grasp. we ignore each other’s presence at home—so what makes me think you’ll explain this there? You’re just avoiding the subject!”
“There’s nothing to avoid!” I yelled incredulously looking around as if someone had suggested my hair was on fire.
“Then WHY can’t you look me in the EYE?” Joey inches his face towards mine—eyes ablaze with intimidation.
I look stubbornly back at his identical eyes—my twitching ceased as I lie prostate on the ground. He won’t get shit from me.
Joey blinked a few times—apparently confused with my sudden lack of struggle. He took it as a peace offering and cautiously got off my aching body—his cat like eyes following my every move as I made to get up and dust off my school suit.
“Now” He said quietly now that I was standing erect and seemingly negotiable. “Are you going to talk to me like a normal human being… or must I track you down, race you down the hallway, and pounce upon you like inhumane crazy people.”
I scoffed at his lack of vocabulary. By this time the tardy bell had rung leaving the halls vacant except for us Armstrong brothers—standing face to face in obstinate fortitude.
“Well?” He raised an eyebrow. I inhaled sharply—mentally preparing myself for the suicidal task ahead. I was going to run for it. Where I was going to run, I had no idea—but the fact of the matter was, Joey had the longest endurance. But I couldn’t let him know, not here.
So I did it. I tore away from him and pounded down the hallway in blind courage—pelting for the door way. I was a tad discouraged when I failed to hear Joey behind me but instead a simple threat echoing of the lockers.
“JAKOB, I’VE GOT SOMETHING VERY IMPORTANT OF YOURS!”
Joey doesn’t know shit about me or what’s important to me—but to humor him I paused at the exit, turning sharply to see what he held in his stained guilty hand.
Oh shit, it was my handwritten 6 page essay on the importance of stem cell research. And he had a lighter to the edge of the revised, copied, recopied, modified, perfected to the punctuation essay that took little over a 4 weeks to perfect. All at the mercy of an ignorant brother with a fire weapon in his right hand.
“No” I mouthed in unbelieving panic. My silent no turned to a whisper, and then repetitive shouts “NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO NO”
Joey smiled in pure triumph—an almost sinister laugh playing on his lips “Oh yes, Jake, now TELL!”
“NO” I screech in desperation—but I know he’s got me. Not the stem cell research paper.
Joey lit the lighter and held it dangerously close to the paper—the orange reflecting on the solid white exterior. I whimper despite myself and flinch when he makes a sudden movement with the lighter.
“NO!” I yell again, Joey cocks his head to the side.
“Just say it” Joey said in an almost too calm voice. I whined a bit, shifting weight between my two feet—when all I really wanted was to sit down and moan for a good hour.
Joey let the end of the light flick the edge of the paper whilst licking his lips. Damn cocky bitch has the upper hand. The invisible scale measured out in my mind. Paper, or pride. Paper or pride. Paper or---
“GOD DAMN IT JOEY FINE! JUST LOWER THE FIRE AND I’LL TELL YOU!”
“SAY IT FIRST!” Joey yelled back—which is completely unnecessary considering we were 10 yards apart.
“LOWER FIRST—” I stopped mid sentence as a flame licked dangerously high “OKAY, OKAY, OKAY!”
Joey smiled brilliantly as I took possibly the longest and deepest breath in my life.
“I’m gay” I mumble ashamed, my head lowering but glancing up to see Joey still holding my paper—threatening it’s beautiful life with a worthless lighter.
“Oh come on” he said gently, lowering the paper a fraction of an inch, looking at me with what would seem a ironic facial expression. “Where the fuck is the Jakob I know? The one who’s not ashamed to openly admit his personality. The one who shouts out to the world—”
“No” I said quietly, scratching my neck warily, “That’d be Dad. That was never me . . .”
Joey opened and closed his mouth a few times his eyes measuring me up. “No, Jakey…”
Oh damn it, he said ‘Jakey’. We’re ganna get all preachy now, I can tell.
“Jake, who do you think will like you less if you let that out? I mean, you’re the god damn poster boy of the world.”
I raised my eyebrow in consideration. “How is that claim in anyway accurate?”
“Oh come on, don’t play dumb. You’re father’s a god damn rockstar, you’re a good looking son of a bitch, you’re the president of this whole facility, you’re a genius, for crying out loud. You’re the nicest guy I know—would one mark against you really matter?”
“Joey, it’s not like coming out of the closet is equivalent to admitting to smashing an ant on accident last Sunday” I snap.
Joey completely lowered my beloved paper and let out the lighter, crossing his arms in annoyance.
“Answer me, Jake…who is going to love you less? Dad? He openly admits to being bisexual! Mom? She’d probably be relieved she won’t have to deal with an early pregnancy or something. Me? I already know, and I still love you.”
“Yea that’s just my family, what about all the other people in the world!” I make wide motions with my hands as if the entire world was witnessing this conversation and I could openly refer to them.
“What about them? Your friends won’t mind! This school is awed with every move you make so I doubt the faculty with care that much! I mean, people will make fun of you, but they do that anyway . . .”
“Thanks” I mumbled sarcastically.
“Seriously” Joey sighed “what the hell is stopping you from being you? You couldn’t even tell your own brother!”
I look at Joey as if it was the first time I’d ever seen him in my life “Joey! We don’t live in fantasy world. Anything WE do will go EVERYWHERE! Our dad is Billie Joe Fucking Armstrong. Anything that happens to him is the world’s business. I can see it now…” my hands paint an imaginary magazine cover, “Jakob Danger Armstrong, Son of Legendary Rock star is a FAGGOT”
“And so what?” Joey asked truthfully.
“And so…” I start praying the rest of the sentence would magically appear. I open and close my mouth several times—different words trying their spot in the sentence before retiring and letting another string have a go. Nothing worked. “And so…” I try again.
Joey laughed in merriment, a smile cracking across his face. Why does he win? Why does he always win?
His smile is contagious as it spreads to mine. I shrug in defeat, relaxing my body muscles as I feel like the largest load had been vanished from my chest. “And so what?” I repeat in laughter, my eyes searching the hallways for an answer.
Joey allows his giggle to elevate to a full on laughing seizure—mine doing the same as I walked causally back to him—my back heaving in laughter.
“I’m a fag!” I said, almost feeling as if I was completely drunk—although I’ve never actually experienced that feeling before. “I’m a flaming homosexual!”
Joey nodded and pulled me once I was arm’s length away into a brotherly hug.
“I’m a FAIRY!” I started shouting, idiotically waving my arms about in liberation. “I’M QUEER! I’M GAY! I LIKE GUYS!”
Joey laughed, encouraging me to continue my release that no one but he heard.
“I’m incredibly turned on by sensitive musicians!”
The laughter stopped and Joey looked apprehensively at my smiling figure. My smile faded and I coughed a little to make up for the silence.
“Maybe we shouldn’t be that open…”
“Yea I was thinking that” Joey smiled, hooking his arm around my shoulder and leading me to the school exit. “Come on, let’s go do something gay like.”
I smiled luminously, never feeling so close to my brother as I did then.
“So what’s something gay?” Joey asked, pausing before opening the door.
“Getting snow cones” I suggested resolving the fact that it was the only thing within walking distance.
Joey frowned in amusement “ I must be gay then too”
Number of posts : 2476
Age : 29
Location : stalking GD in Oakland xD
Registration date : 2007-09-18
|Subject: Re: California, One Youth and Beauty Brigade 9/26/2009, 5:13 am|| |
This is great so far! Can't wait to read more! =D
Number of posts : 16
Age : 31
Registration date : 2009-09-23
|Subject: Re: California, One Youth and Beauty Brigade 10/2/2009, 7:54 am|| |
thank you thank you!
WARINIG: RAMONA IS A BITCH
I causally flicked the underside of my shoe as I rested my ankle on my knee, the constant feel of skin on smooth rubber calming my urged nerves. I’ve sat in this very same park bench with the very same company doing the very same thing several times before—leaving the unanswered question looming in my mind. Why the hell do I continue to do this to myself?
Estelle, the perfect little princess she is, has her hands resting on my arm in more of emotional support for herself than comfort for me. Fuck, she’d probably be the one salvaging the depths of her conscious for a reasonable self assuring reason as to why she’s such a fuck up when in fact it’s me doing the fucking. Pun intended.
“Are you ready?” I scoffed giving Stella a sardonic glance when she let out a nervous breath of preparation. I don’t know why I’m being such a bitch to her, but I called her here for emotional support and all she’s doing is successfully pointing out how laid back I am. She’s here as a role model as to how a 17 year old should be acting when about to purchase a pregnancy test.. it makes me oddly self conscious at how normal this seems to me—how I wish I could innocently sit here on the edge of my chair, mind spinning around my alternate paths, what I should have done—licking the wounds already cut.
But the thing was: I had completely converted myself to this soulless whore—living off of long nights in unfamiliar bars, clinging to whoever would by me a drink. Maybe more then clinging depending how much he spared on me.
Estelle seemed to ignore my offensiveness, patting my knee comfortingly before lightly jumping from the bench—offering her hands to aid my standing. I rolled my eyes in a huff and helped myself off, pushing past her to the awaiting fate ahead. It wasn’t bad enough I was sauntering into a gas station to purchase a pregnancy test—but did I have to drag along the cutest, sweetest, most innocent chick ever conceived?
I walked immediately to the pregnancy tests, grabbing the first one within sight and stomping towards the bathrooms—only slightly aware Estelle was following me like a mindless zombie. She seemed a bit out of place as I locked myself in a stall—hastily unwrapping the test as if once purchased it would self destruct momentarily. I just wanted to get this out of the way; to prove to Estelle that condoms aren’t the devil’s creation invented to knock up unsuspecting teens. Or what ever those books of hers say.
However; I couldn’t help but feel the urgent tugging at the edge of my mind—or of what conscious I actually owned. What if I am knocked up? Which is completely out of the question so why bother wasting perfectly suitable brain cells figuring my mistakes?
I opened the stall abruptly causing Stella to jump from her perch on the edge of the grimy sink.
“Sorry” I threw at her, tossing the test on the counter top and washing my hands as if my life depended on it.
She raised an eyebrow at the test, her fingers creeping away from it in unspoken disgust. This chick will probably never see one of these things again till after her 40s.
“For what?” she asked in a cool voice, directing her gaze to my avoiding stature.
“For bitching at you.” I said simply receiving a small grin from her direction of the counter. How can this girl look radiant amongst graffiti adorned walls and molding wall plaster. Sometimes it just annoys the fuck out of me. “Finding out if you’re knocked up or not can sometimes become a stressful ordeal.” I added sarcastically, mentally cursing myself for envying Estelle’s natural beauty whilst waiting for pregnancy test results.
I turned my gaze from her more than attention grabbing self, and stared in the mirror at my boring reflection. I twisted my newly black died hair into a messy bun, turning my head from side to side to see if my dye stains had vanished from my surrounding skin. I caught Estelle’s eye as I continued fidgeting with my hair, her stunning baby blue’s watching my ever move as if I was awaiting the word to attack her. I dropped my arms in exasperation and turned to face her completely.
“Anything else I should be apologizing for” I sighed in annoyance.
“Why do you do this to yourself?” She asked without flitching, she seemed to be in a life involving trance. Stupid me was still wrapped up in my hair and consequently assuming she was too.
“Cause unlike some people” I raised an accusing eye at her, “Not everyone was born with natural radiant hair. Stupid father passed down the most butt ugly red hair known to…”
“No” Estelle cut me off, closing her eyes and laughing slightly as if she was the fucking greatest comedian playing the prank of the year. “This” she widened her eyes, looking around the public bathroom in wonder—lastly leaving her eyes to rest upon the awaiting test.
I blinked hard—she was disrupting the code. She wordlessly follows me around till I am emotionally content to push her away and she in return doesn’t ask fucking questions.
“I mean” Estelle stuttered, her nerve catching up with her, “You could be so much more—there’s got to be a guy out there who—”
“Look” I said curtly, turning to grab a paper towel and violently dry off my hands in resentment. She should be lucky I’m taking this all out of a flat plane of paper than her pretty little neck. “This is inevitable.” I snapped, motioning to the bathroom she had previously insulted—labeling as unfit for her precious domain. “So don’t fucking insult it.”
Stella looked taken aback, opening her mouth to argue. Probably to give some inspirational speech about how everyone is as special as they want to be bla de blah.
I interrupted her by grabbing the test and mumbling a “it’s time”.
She closed her mouth and crossed her arms in anticipation, studying my face as I held the test close to my eyes.
Eternally I was doing a celebration of serious relief—but Estelle didn’t need to know. My heart rate evened and I momentarily closed my eyes in temporary nirvana. I opened them again to see the expectorant
I smirked, throwing the test away and turning for the door without an explanation to the awaiting Estelle. Giving not a moments thought as I observed her staring intently at the opposite walls—fighting her own personal demons. Probably appalled at such horrendous behavior—naïve fool.
Number of posts : 1004
Age : 29
Location : Christie Road
Registration date : 2007-09-22
|Subject: Re: California, One Youth and Beauty Brigade 10/10/2009, 12:21 pm|| |
This is great Carol Ann! I love reading your stuff again! Can't wait for an update.
|Subject: Re: California, One Youth and Beauty Brigade || |
California, One Youth and Beauty Brigade