On the Brink of Destruction | By : canesfreak Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Green Day Views: 1362 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0 |
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Green Day. I do not make any money from the writing of this story. |
DISCLAIMER!!! I Do not own Green Day, so don’t assume I do! Just have fun reading this story! The only characters I own are my originals, a.k.a. all but Green Day. Ah, Detroit, the State Theater, and any other official sounding namedropping I do, don’t own them either. Peace!
Chapter 1: The Beginning
Veronda Drake awoke in a cold sweat. She'd had a nightmare. Not a particularly frightening one, at least she didn't think so; so could hardly remember what even happened in it. It wasn't like the scary one from last night about Death, but still this one frightened her, deep inside. It seemed she was having more nightmares more often, mostly about the things she wanted to forget. Things from her past, like some hard parts of her childhood, the parents that came in and out of her life, especially her father, but it seemed she'd had views of what might happen to her in the future. She had looked slightly older in these night visuals, the little lapses of her subconscious, seemed more worldly, not like herself and how she was now. She was scared what to think of those, because what happened within them was hardly good. Confused and bewildered, but determined to shut her dream out of her thoughts, she stretched her arms wearily, but strangely, her eyes were wide open.
Now that she'd cleared her head, she really couldnt recall what she'd dreamt. "Thank goodness", she'd thought. "I probably wouldn't want to anyway, but then again," a new sense of curiousity, maybe even courage, came about her. "Maybe I would, but I really think I'm going nuts." She rummaged through her closet after emerging from her bed, her face now dry after she'd swiped the back of her hand across it to wipe off the remaining sweat. She'd for sure need a shower before returning to bed, if she even did this evening.
"What time is it anyways", Veronda asked herself aloud. She looked at the alarm clock, the red digital numbers burning in her tired eyes like a flashing ambulance light, only without the sound. "God, 4 am". She gave another heavyhearted sigh and sauntered to the living room. She wasn't hungry for an early breakfast, and she didn't want the depressing, mundane news that usually invaded her TV. So she just sat; sat to relax, sat to ponder, sat to-
"RING!"
Veronda looked with annoyance and perplexity at the phone, both angry at who would be calling this early, but then curious as well because she was up anyway, she wasn't totally disturbed from a slumber, not by the phone anyways. "Who the Hell", she asked herself. She gave a sly smile as she looked at the Caller ID and saw "Hillock, Emily" on the glowing display. Emily was her best friend since grade school. who shared her tiny apartment. She'd been gone on a trip with her boyfriend, and due to return this morning, so this was probably the obligatory "We're coming home from the airport so I deserve a prize" call. Ugh.
Another ring blared through the quiet room, and enough time for a quick eye roll from veronda before she picked up the phone, cool and unassuming tones in her voice. "Hello?"
"Ah, there's my girl, I was beginning to wonder if I'd even catch you", Emily said in her chipper-cute British accent.
Emily was always adorable. Born in London, she moved to Detroit as a grand escape from the mundane with her mother and younger sister Jamie when she was 6, just in time for the first grade. She never lost the accent, and Veronda always assumed that was to be attributed to the constant exposure to her mother Agatha's thick as nails dialect. If you took one listen to her fast speech, it would seem to be another tongue than English, but it wasn't. It was just so thick, it was unbelievable, and it obviously had rubbed off on Emily. Her father, Richmond, a deadbeat music producer in Wales, was never really around, and when he was, he was quite the drunk, never a mean one, except for a few emotional degradations here and there when it got really drastic, but they didn't need his drama around the household. So when Agatha was given an opportunity to write for a metropolitan Detroit newspaper, she hopped at the chance, packed up her girls without a word to Rich, and headed to America, figuring they were all better off. They'd never gotten a slice of his big fortune anyway, so they might as well have made a go of it on their own, become independent women; and why not? Veronda had always admired Agatha, and adored that story. It was probably more intriguing than her life.
Emily was quite the gawky child in the early days, but she seemed to have bloomed after graduation day. It was like once the received their diplomas, hello! Instant knockout. Not that Veronda wasn't gorgeous, because she was, perhaps even more so, if not equal, but it just seemed there was some strange magnetism about Emily wherever they went. "Must be the accent". That was always the chief suspicion in Veronda's mind. No matter where the two went, and they did go everywhere, whether to a club or bar, it was Emily getting a million dance or drink offers. Perhaps Vera, as she was often called, should try an accent. She'd lamented that lots of times, but never tried it.
So here was Emily, calling after her dream vacation, with her dream boyfriend, surely, her dream looks on the other end, taunting the dumpy, just out of bed Veronda who hadn't even fit in a shower after her bartending gig last night. Ugh. She could imagine it now, the shiny, chin length straight blonde hair, chocolate brown eyes, bright as ever, pink stained lips, perfect teeth, it was obvious why she got all the breaks. She bartended too, but she got twice as many tips and nights off, damn her, Veronda thought, with a slight twinge of humor. Someday the luck had to come to her.
Veronda had to give Enily credit, she was a very honest woman, never looking sideways at her men, never trying to horn in on anything of hers, and she was totally faithful to her boyfriend of two years, Caleb Myron, a handsome accountant i Auburn Hills. He'd asked Emily to move in many a time with him, but she'd always refused, in her singsong voice, with British slang, "A girl is a girl only once! I'm in no hurry and I just know you're not going to make me give up romping with my girls and allow myself to be tied down! Let's worry about the big commitments later, shall we?" He, a blue eyed, wavy-haired brunette with book smarts and a great, muscular build, was possibly more pursued than she. Good thing he too was honest, albeit a patient, well meaning guy. All through it all, though, there was a constant love between the two girls. They were best friends, and were probably meant to be that way forever, at least they always thought so.
"Hello?! Are you there?" Emily chipped in, snapping veronda fro her random little unimportant musings.
"Yea....yea...sorry, I just kinda zoned there for a moment, so when....uh, are you coming home anyways?" Veronda asked sleepily. She wasn't lying.
"Oh goodness, miss me that much did you?" A devilish giggle from Emily's side. "Well, we're just on our way out, just have to grab our luggage, but that's not why i called," Emily finished with a giggle.
"Well how was New York, anyways?" Veronda asked, oblivious to the real answer Emmy had in mind.
"Smog, heavy traffic, rude cabdrivers and passersby, big buildings, high prices, the usual", Emily cackled. "I mean, seriously, the details don't matter now, because you'll hear it all later! Once again, the vacay is not why I called".
Tired, and just wanting her to be out with it, "Then why did you then, smartass? It's 4 o' clock am, and you're lucky I even answered" was what Veronda shot back.
"Oh hush, crabapple", Emily giggled, her boyfriend's voice faint in the background. "Anyways, Caleb's brother, Brian, who's such a hermit, we haven't even talked or met before, and I haven't even seen a picture of, well he sent us an envelope back at the hotel we were staying at, and inside of it were two tickets for the Green Day show at the State Theater tonight. Well Caleb must have told Brian I'm crazy about them, because I sure as hell have never talked with the guy; weird you know? And Caleb, you know, hates Green Day so I can't ask him, so the tickets are ours! Of course, Brian should have known Caleb dislikes them, but he thinks with something that's not his brain half the time if you know what I mean, Oh Lord it doesn't even matter anymore, what do you say?" A breath after all those words now from her side, accompanied by another giggle.
"Green Day?" Veronda began. "Seriously you have to be joking, you know I'm not into that stuff either. I heard that "Time of Your Life" stuff years ago, hated it, maybe liked a few songs in between but, no." She gave an exasperated sigh.
"OH, Come ON, Vera! Please! For me! I know you're into all that Joan Osborne stuff..." As Emily rambled on, Veronda did know that she was right. Only, throw in a little Stones, a little Jimi and maybe some Bob Seger and Third Eye Blind, and a side of gangsta rap here and there when she was really pissed off and you had the tastes down pat. The girl put up a good argument to try and get her way, that was another thing Veronda had to give Emily credit for. "So seriously, please?" Emily finished, sometimes after whatever she was saying.
"Fine, fine, I guess".
"Well, good, thank you, you need it; you have hardly gone out and had fun since your breakup with ultraloser Jake anyways." Emily said with what seemed like a contented sigh.
"Excuse me, but I don't seem to have the best memories from the cheating lying bastard", Veronda retorted, and not with much sympathy either, because she never liked that asshole brought up. She broke up with him 5 months ago after she found out he was porking the girl downstairs, who moved out after Veronda almost kicked her ass in rage. Not only that, but Jake was going to give her shit about being so harsh on the little tramp. Thank goodness he moved back to Minnesota to help with his Dad's fishing business; she'd have to put up with seeing his ass around town. One good thing was he never hit her. Veronda always swore that if a man hit her like her Mom's abusive relationship with an ex-boyfriend, Travis, she'd kill the guy, and nothing had ever come up serious like that. Lucky break for whoever.
"All right, you have my apologies, girl, you know that, it's just....I'd like to see you enjoying yourself, that's all, and we hardly get nights out of the apartment, we're always lying around with a dish of popcorn and a suckass movie, so we're to do something different, and maybe you'll like it in the end, hmm?" Emily said, sweeter.
"Doubt it, but hey, ok, whatever Emmy"
"And I'm treating! Whether you want crap to stuff your face with or if you want a souvenir, how's that? " She giggled, and the bubbly sound made Veronda giggle as well, spirits even lifted, forgetting about the heavy Jake conversation. "It's my welcome home and I'm buying all the presents", an even bubblier giggle, but this one with a naughty tinge; "Maybe Billie will stick his hand down his pants and give me a fine view", she shrieked.
"That you can have, sweetheart," said Veronda. "Whatever he looks like don't ask me, and don't even start describing, cuz you have a man to tend to and I'll sicken myself enough later". Veronda laughed. "Now shut up and be on your way home; I'm going to sleep and so should you if we're going later, especially if we've got to leave earlier than usual to get you closer to your lust objects".
"OHhhh," moaned Emily. "Alrighty, you. Pick something lovely for the show too. If Billie Joe sees me looking fantastic as ever, but sees you're with me and looking haggish, it's over for me" She laughed devilishly and Veronda giggled. "Bye, Vera,", followed by a click.
Veronda clicked to disconnect her line. She turned to look at the mirror across from the TV, turning on a dim light for a second to get a good look at herself. She was no Emily, that was for sure, at least for now. Her hair was all mussed up and horrendous looking in a huge clump at the top of her messily ponytailed head. It was usually sleek straight and shiny, or on a good styling day, perhaps lightly waved or curled, lond and bodacious over her shoulders. And she never left without a black or green toned outfit to complement those olive green hazel eyes of hers, the ones accented with long fluttery eyelashes that people always assumed for fakes. One thing Veronda had also gotten alot of, that Emily was given less of were hips, she definitely had more curves, though both were skinny and flat chested; veronda's endowment of an ass was a proud achievement. Her lips were also pink and voluptuous, straight teeth, and a nice narrow nose to boot. Her eyebrows nicely arched, and she had a good gait about her, though her sitting posture was for crap. Hence why she liked Coney Islands on a night out on the town, and not some fancy pants restaurant. So what, she was gorgeous usually. She knew it, and maybe she'd use it to her benefit later. She didn't care at the moment. She was going back to bed after a few quick Oreo cookies to sleep until she had to get up to shower.
If only she knew her life as well as a few others would change irreversibly later that night. But maybe she wouldn't mind that either.
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