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Ashes of Dreams	By : ElleU Category: Singers/Bands/Musicians > Sum 41 Views: 1126 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. I do not know the members of Sum 41. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
Chapter 5

Another three days had passed since the first show with Cone as AoD’s bassist, and D-Sept’s fingers were rapidly healing up. She sighed as she looked down on the list in front of her. What was the point in writing a list of her favourite slow songs? Didn’t matter. CC had told her it was urgent, so of course she did it. When CC was serious about something she was to be taken seriously. The young singer looked down at the list wearily. Mainly European bands, but she was European herself, so that should only be natural.
Still Standing, Not Like Other Girls, Time to Burn and Funeral Song by The Rasmus
Loser’s Game and Silver Flame by Dizzy Mizz Lizzy
Little Baby Nothing by Manic Street Preachers
The Unforgiven by Metallica (it’s kind of slow, isn’t it)
Girl’s Not Grey by A.F.I.
Numb and My December by Linkin Park
The Last Day of Summer by The Cure
Where Did It All Go Wrong by Oasis
Biting her lip, she bent down to add an extra scribble at the bottom.
Burn, Burn by Lostprophets (not exactly a slow song, but damn it rules. Fuck you, CC)
That was all she could come up with now. She looked through the list with a little smile playing on her lips. She was quite melancholic, wasn’t she? And it seemed she’d just established the way she’d prefer to die. She did have a thing for fire and burning, she noted. “Done,” she yelled, still wondering what the fuck her friend needed the list for. Her birthday was four days ago and Christmas was nearly nine months away. She left the list on the table and went to the kitchen area to open a closet, which, predictably, was filled with booze and chocolate milk rather than actual food. She found a full bottle of Hot’n’Sweet, opened it and started drinking.
“Try not to get too drunk before the show,” Dev said, flopping down to sit on the counter next to the singer, putting out a cigarette in the ash tray.
“Course not, Dev, I got too drunk to play once. I’m never going to do that again.”
“Yeah,” the drummer agreed. “That kind of sucked.” She smiled smugly. “How’re things going with Cone?”
D-Sept shrugged hesitantly. “Fine, I guess. It’s just weird.”
“What’s weird?” Dev lifted her pierced eyebrow. “That there’s something about you that he’d want more than just sex?”
“I guess,” the singer said, looking down slightly.
“When the fuck did you start feeling that your body was the only likeable thing to guys you had?”
“I don’t know…” D-Sept said, shaking her head as she started sucking her lip ring. “My Dad walked out on us and Mark…” She shook her head again. “Mark said I was a good-for-nothing whore. The only times I actually felt he respected or even liked me were… you know… in bed.”
“Mark’s a fucking asshole. You wasted eight bloody months with him. Don’t let him ruin you now.”
“I just don’t know,” she said with a sigh, wiping her suddenly damp eyes. “I’m not crying!” she added defensively.
“Never said you were,” her friend replied, holding up her hands.
“Who’d’ve thought my confidence in myself was this bloody low?” D-Sept finally said, managing a smile under the smudged eye makeup as she started picking at her ever-present sweatbands.
“You’re good at hiding it,” Dev said with a shrug. “But instead of worrying, take it as a good sign that he’s delaying sex. The bloke really cares about you, Dee.” She smiled. “And you’ve had fun just hanging out with him, right?”
“Yeah I guess…” she trailed off. “I’m just not sure I’m ready for what he wants to build.”
“Only one way to find out.”
D-Sept sat still for a moment, staring into space while she took the occasional gulp from the bottle. “How are things with Deryck?” she finally asked.
Dev blushed bright red, looking extremely girlish all of a sudden. “They aren’t,” she answered, trying an indifferent shrug. “When I try to talk to him he just steers the subject to you.” She sighed. “Sometimes I just wish I could fucking hate you. Even when you’re not with a guy, you still have him.”
“Deryck and I are nothing like that!” D-Sept argued. “I practically have a boyfriend.”
“I know.” She paused. “But MTV doesn’t and all the stupid interviewers don’t and even if it’s not in that way, you’re still on his mind all the time.”
“You need to be blunt with him,” the singer advised. “Otherwise he’ll never get your point.”
“He’s not stupid,” Dev defended.
“I know. He’s just so used to girls being all over him that he doesn’t remember how to take a hint.”
“I can’t just… tell him.”
“Damnit,” D-Sept muttered with a slight frustration evident in her voice. “I’m beginning to understand why we never went to high school.” She nodded slowly, sucking her upper lip. “I’ll talk to him,” she finally promised.

“The whole Miami deal rules!” Steve exclaimed randomly.
“Yeah,” Dave agreed. “I can’t remember the last time we got to stay two nights straight in the same hotel.”
“I was mostly talking about the after party tonight,” Steve informed with a shrug. “I don’t think we’ll get any sleep at all.”
“No,” Cone said. “And if we try, you’ll do something really nasty to us, am I right?”
“Of course, kiddo.”
“Fuck you,” the bassist replied. “I’m older.”
“Only than him,” Deryck said, finally taking up his part in the conversation. “So tomorrow we have interviews and signings and stuff all morning and then most of the afternoon to ourselves, right?”
“Yeah,” Dave said. “Then we have to do some dumb-ass quiz show tomorrow night till seven and then we have the evening off.”
“That’s a hell of a lot of partying,” Steve said, grinning.
“Well… I was planning to call it an early night tomorrow,” Dave said, standing up to go find some potato chips. “Finally getting some proper sleep and some time to call the wife without distractions.”
“I’m taking Dee out, so you won’t be seeing a lot of me either,” Cone said.
“Deryck?” Steve asked desperately.
“I’m right there with you, bud,” the singer said with a reassuring smile. “Dave can you bring a bottle of whatever now that you’re up there?” He sighed. “I think I need to be drunk tonight if I’m going to actually go through with this,” he added.
“So you’re really letting her pierce you?” Cone asked credulously.
“It seems so.” He smiled. “Don’t look so worried, she’s your girlfriend. AND she passed her piercer/tattoo artist tests things with flying colours. She’s good.”
“What are you getting done?” Steve asked.
“The lip,” the singer answered with a grin.
“So you decided to go for the twin look?” Dave asked.
“Nah… I’m getting it done in the side,” Deryck answered, pointing to the left half of his lip. “Not nearly as close to the corner of the mouth as Tom from Blink, though,” he added.
“So between your lip and Dave’s nose we’re getting close to being able to really call ourselves a punk band,” Cone said, snatching the bottle out of Dave’s hand to open it and take a large gulp before he handed it to Deryck.
“Let’s just hope she isn’t trying to find the bottom of the bottle too,” Dave said. “Cause that could get slightly messy.”
“Don’t worry. Dev promised she’d keep her sober for tonight.”

Deryck looked up at the sound of a knock to his hotel door, standing up to open with the beer still in hand.
“Hey Deryck!” D-Sept greeted happily, seemingly very hyper from the sleep she’d not gotten the last night.
“Hey Dee.” He flashed her a smile. “What’s up?”
“Not much.” She pushed past him through the door to take one of the few remaining beers out of the six-pack on his nightstand. “I ran out of tobacco,” she stated as she opened the can. “Would you like to come downtown with me to see if we can find any?”
“What happened to Cone?” Deryck asked, under the impression that the tall bassist had wanted to spend the day with his girlfriend.
“He had to do something,” the girl said with a shrug. “I think we’re going out tonight after the quiz show, though,” she added. She looked closely at his lip. “I think that’s gonna heal up nicely,” she replied with a smile. “I haven’t completely lost my touch.”
He just smiled, reaching out with his tongue to feel the body-warm metal hoop for the hundredth time since she’d made the piercing the night before.
“You need to not lick it so much, though, or it’ll go numb and infected and stuff,” she warned.
“Alright,” he said, fighting the urge to feel it again. “At least I don’t have to clean it all the time with all the booze coming through,” he added with a smile.
“So,” she replied, heading for the door again. “Are you coming or what?”
“Course,” he answered. “Let me just get my jacket.”

“Damn this city,” D-Sept said in an annoyed tone of voice. “If they don’t have any tobacco in all of Miami it’s officially moving to the top 5 of my ‘sucky cities to visit’ list.”
“Calm down,” Deryck said with a small smile. “There has to be an Arab part of the city somewhere. Let’s ask somebody.”
D-Sept was already gone, having stopped an unfortunate local-looking woman on the sidewalk. It had been a fun couple of hours with just small talking and seeing the centre of Florida’s capital. The girl was always fun to hang out with, different from hanging with the guys. Even though she was completely hyped out it was sort of relaxing to walk with her, getting to be the calm, older one who kept in charge of her enthusiastic outbreaks. Never before he’d met her had he ever realised how much he missed having a sibling. And now she came bouncing back. “Four blocks down there’s a small Iraqi store. The woman reckoned they’d have tobacco,” she informed, slowing down her pace to walk beside him as they started walking in the direction they’d been given.
It wasn’t a long walk and ten minutes later they entered the small, exotic-looking mini-marked which had a distinct scent of chilli, garlic and other spices hanging in the air. D-Sept paced around the shop, looking through things as if she knew it all by heart. “Seen one, seen ‘em all,” she whispered as she passed Deryck, picking up two boxes of charcoal, which he knew held eighty pieces each. She went to the counter, offering the stout, foreign-looking man a smile as she uttered a greeting in what Deryck assumed was Arab.
The man answered the greeting as D-Sept put the boxes down on the counter.
“So… what tobacco do you have?” she asked, switching back to English. Her Arab vocabulary must’ve run out of phrases, Deryck assumed.
“Two apples, liquorice, menthol…”
“Liquorice?” D-Sept interrupted. “That’s impossible to get by. I fucking love you, dude!” She put on a charming grin. “What else?”
“Orange, grapes, mixed fruits…” he looked at his stash under the counter. “Rose. I guess that’s that.” He smiled at Deryck. “Hello, sir,” he said with a smile. “Taking your sister shopping?”
“She’s not my sister,” Deryck said, smiling at the hint to their resemblance before he went to look the shop over himself as D-Sept bargained the price with the poor man. He came to a halt in front of the water-pipes. “Should I buy one, Dee?” he suddenly asked, admiring the hand-work of a smaller, bright red one with two tubes and not too many unnecessary decorations aside from the black and white painted patterns on the glass-part.
“If you want to,” the girl said with a shrug, walking to him with her filled shopping back. “It’s cute,” she added, nodding at the one he’d been looking at. “You can use mine anytime, but if you like it, you may want to get one for yourself. No tour lasts forever.”
He nodded. “I think I will,” he finally replied, picking up the pipe to give it a closer inspection.
“So you don’t get sick any longer?” she asked with a smile.
“Hell no,” he said with a grin. “It didn’t take that long to get used to it.”
“I thought so,” she said with a nod. “Didn’t take me long either. But Jo and Dev still get stoned as hell.”
Deryck finally brought the pipe to the counter, noting that D-Sept put a pack of charcoal next to it for him. “What tobacco is good?” he asked the girl.
“You want to get a stash of liquorice going. The shit’s great and it’s virtually impossible to find. Other than that… I’d take apple and orange.”
“Alright,” he muttered, looking at the shop-keeper with heaved eyebrows to imply that he was following his friend’s advice.

“So…” Deryck said, holding his fragile package close.
“So…” D-Sept repeated, flashing him a smile.
“Wanna grab a sub before we go back to the hotel?” he asked.
“Yeah, sure,” she answered, swinging her bag around her a she twirled to see if she could locate a sandwich bar.
Deryck grabbed her arm with a laugh. “Calm down, Dee, there’s one right there,” he replied, pointing.
“Oh…” she said, starting to calm down a bit. “Okay. Cool.”
They crossed the street, ordered and sat down at the table they’d found.
“I’m warm,” D-Sept declared, taking off her jacket. “It’s fucking April,” she added. “Even Florida isn’t supposed to be this hot now.”
Deryck laughed, taking his own jacket off as well. “How are you liking the tour so far?” he finally asked.
She bit her lip. “It’s cool I guess. Seeing America and all. And you and MEST are definitely some of the coolest bands we’ve ever gotten to hang out with.” She looked up to meet his eyes. “I just never would’ve thought a tour could get this complicated in what… nine fucking days or something.”
“The tour isn’t complicated,” Deryck argued with a smile. “The people are. You really weren’t ready for the whole Cone-deal, were you?”
“Not nearly,” she answered, smiling back. “But I think I’ll get used to it. It’s just weird, though,” she added, trailing off.
“What’s weird?”
“It’s like our bands are interconnected or something. I mean… Cone and I are obviously together, right? Sort of, at least. Then there’s you and me, which is just plain strange.”
“Strange?” he asked again, wanting her to define it further, not because he didn’t understand what she was talking about, but because he wanted to see if she got what was going on any better.
“I know what attraction is, and that’s usually my motive for hanging out with a guy, but I’m not attracted to you, not like that.” She smiled, looking slightly uncomfortable. “But it’s still like I’m drawn to you somehow.” She paused. “I don’t think I’ve ever grown as close to anybody in such as short time as I have with you.”
He nodded. “I know exactly what you mean,” he replied, feeling no need to probe further. The girl knew no more than he did.
“Then there’s CC and Dave, who’re becoming discussion pals and best friends like this.” She snapped her fingers, muttering an ‘oops’ as one of the people working at the sandwich bar came their way quickly.
“Sorry, dude,” Deryck quickly said. “We were just wondering when our subs are going to be ready.”
“Oh,” the boy said quickly. “I’ll go check on them right now.”
“Bad move,” D-Sept said with a smug grin. “But as I was going to say: let Steve and Jo get to know each other a bit better and go through a couple more ‘flavours of the week’ and they’ll be all over each other.”
“Yeah,” Deryck replied, his forehead wrinkled in deep thought. “I guess you could be right on that one, too.”
The boy came back, finally bringing their sandwiches and cokes.
“Could you please bring a fork and knife too?” D-Sept quickly asked, smiling to the boy.
“You use fork and knife?” Deryck asked surprised.
“Nope. You do.”
“What? Why?”
She just pointed at his lip, smiling. “It kind of hurts to just eat a sandwich like that for the first couple of weeks. Speaking from experience,” she added.
“Alright,” he replied, receiving the items. “So what’s with Dev?” he asked, referring to the conversation they’d been interrupted in.
The girl smiled. “What do you think of her?”
“I don’t know,” he answered. “She’s cool and kind of hot I guess. It just seems like she always gets a bit annoyed or distracted when I talk to her.”
D-Sept looked like she desperately tried to keep from giggling. “Just try to overlook that,” she finally said. “She really wants to get to know you.”

It wasn’t until much later Deryck realised she’d never actually answered his question.

The four girls entered the cap in changed attire, Jo securing herself the front seat beside the young, sort of hot driver, flirting shamelessly as a way of showing off her new corsettish top.
“I got tobacco!” D-Sept exclaimed with a broad smile.
“Cool,” Dev remarked. “What kind?”
“All sorts.” The singer grinned widely. “I got fucking liquorice!”
“Awesome,” Dev said with a small smile. “But wandering the streets of Miami alone is a little bold – even for you, right?”
“I wasn’t exactly alone,” D-Sept admitted. “I brought Deryck. Got him a pipe and everything.”
“One would almost think you were with him rather than Cone with all the time you two spend together,” CC replied, trying to make her khaki t-shirt sit properly.
“Oh come off it,” D-Sept muttered in an annoyed tone of voice. “Cone was the one who was busy this afternoon. I would’ve gone with him otherwise.”
Dev had gone very quiet and was now resorting to her year-long bad habit of picking at her black nail polish. Her hair was uncharacteristically dyed black, D-Sept noticed. And what was even stranger: it was under control, tucked underneath a navy bandana. Dev was really conquered by her infatuation with Sum 41’s singer.
D-Sept looked down herself. Dressed unusually nice for tonight. Cone had implied that the restaurant they were eating at tonight was quite... expensive was probably the word. And now D-Sept had found herself roaming through all the girls’ suitcases to find something appropriate for the occasion. A pair of high-heeled, cute, black flip-flops, which she would have teased Dev to death for owning if they hadn’t been what it took to make her disregard a random pair of shoes from her own collection of well-worn, tattered chucks. She had added a navy spaghetti-strap top from Jo’s wardrobe, added a blue/green/black not too short plaid skirt of her own and removed the chains from it and had found a plain black vintage cardigan in CC’s laundry, which, after added perfume, was acceptable. She wasn’t exactly looking the part, but at least she looked more ‘normal’ now even if the sweatbands hadn’t been removed. She’d just have to hope it was normal enough. And to enhance the effect she’d flattened all her hair, added a couple of needles to keep the bangs out of her eyes, and realised this made her look nearly five years older.
“What’s the show even called?” CC suddenly asked.
“If you don’t know, nobody does,” D-Sept replied with a shrug. “It doesn’t really matter, though, does it?”
“I guess not,” the guitarist answered, looking out through the window of the cab. “It’s kind of nice, Miami is,” she commented with a smile. “When we retire and all I think I’m gonna use my savings to buy a house here.”
“Good idea,” the singer said. “At least the climate’s nice.” She leaned back in her seat, closing her eyes for a moment. She really was getting tired now, starting to feel the weariness after the party last night. She tuned out Jo’s continued flirting with the driver, hoping she wouldn’t make him wreck the car and slept through the thirty minutes’ drive.

All three bands arrived at the TV-building at the same time, got out of the cars and met up with each other, Jo attaching herself to Matt’s arm, obviously having decided on him for the week. Cone found D-Sept and bent down to give her a quick kiss, flashing her a smile afterwards. He was handsome that night, she decided. Even hotter than normal. He, like she, had made an effort to look less I’m-in-a-punk-band-and-dress-the-way-I-did-when-I-was-sixteen and had on a nice pair of black pants, a regular, print free blue t-shirt over an expensive-looking black, collared shirt, a regular non-studded belt, no sweatbands, no chains and a plain brown jacket. Even his half-long black hair was spiked less madly than usual although it was still gelled.
“I was hoping we’d be able to manoeuvre around the tie-rule,” he replied. “I hate wearing those things and I don’t think I even remember how to tie one properly.”
She smiled. “You look good,” she commented.
“You too,” he returned, grabbing her hand to haul her inside, following the others who’d grouped up to do some chatting on the way inside. It was slightly strange how quick everybody had made friends with each other. But it was nice. Perhaps Northern American bands were simply easier to connect with. Perhaps it was just because she was half-Canadian herself.

Deryck had been in tons of studios through his career, but rarely had they been as sparkly decorated and high-tech as this one. He’d been looking for a sign that indicated the name of the show, which he’d managed to forget. Even when he found it, it rang no bell. Probably some local station, who’d later sell the rights of this exact episode to MTV or MuchMusic or some other music channel.
They were being shown the studio so they’d have an idea of what it was before the audience was brought in.
“You’ll be divided into four teams according to your instruments and will be competing against each other,” an official told them.
“I was under the impression we’d be competing in bands,” Jere said quickly.
“We decided it would be more fun for the viewers to see you interact with the members of the other bands,” the guy explained. “So the drummers, team one, will sit at that table.” He pointed at the table at the farthest left. “The girl in the middle. This applies for all teams.” He pointed at the next table. “Team two, rhythm guitarists. Teams three, bassists, sit over there. And team four, obviously the lead guitarists, over there.” He pointed at the last table. “It’s a great help that all of your bands have the same number of band members and a fairly similar way to line up,” he added with a business minded smile.
“Good,” Steve replied. “Cause you know we planned that just for your convenience.” He overlooked his team. “Did any of us even finish high school?” he asked.
“I think Nick did,” Dev answered. “But it seems he wasted no time to get stoned before coming here,” she added, pointing at the third drummer who had a far-off, stupid expression on his face.
“We’re fucked,” Steve said. “But we’re still gonna win this.”
“At least I finished high school,” Deryck said. “But I don’t remember shit. We have CC, though.” He sent the far taller girl an appreciative smile.
“Glad to feel I’m needed,” she said with a grin. “I’m really not that smart, though. I’ve been in music for too long.”
“I can help too,” Tony argued, struggling to look hurt.
“What about the others?” Steve asked, looking at Deryck.
“Both have two graduates and Jere’s sort of knowledgeable, as is Dave, so I’m guessing they’re the strongest team,” the short singer summed up.
“Don’t worry about the bassists, though,” Dev said with a grin. “Even though D-Sept is clever enough when she hasn’t been drinking, she and Cone are going to be completely fixated on each other. And Matt’s been busy goggling at Jo ever since we got here. They’re the love-struck team, so we shouldn’t fear them too much.”
“He has?” Jo asked, suddenly coming over to join the group.
“Definitely,” CC answered, smiling. “I thought you noticed when a guy stared at you for longer periods.”
“Usually, but I can’t just fucking check all the time. I wouldn’t wanna be caught staring, would I?” she explained, causing the rest of the gathering to laugh.

“So what are the odds?” Matt asked.
“Bad,” D-Sept answered. “I’d put my money on Jere, Jo and Dave, but everything depends on what kind of questions we’re asked.”
“I’d say we still fight,” Cone said with a smile, squeezing her hand slightly. “I guess I’ll have to try to concentrate on the show, though,” he added.
“Alright,” D-Sept agreed, smiling back as she let go of his hand. “Then new rules are in session. We don’t touch each other at all until the quiz is over and Matt is banned from looking at Jo at all, alright?”
Matt grinned. “Hell yeah, let’s give them a fight for their money AND a fat surprise.”
“Cool,” Cone just said. “But the quiz hasn’t started yet,” he added, bending down to kiss her. She turned her head so his lips collided roughly with her cheek.
“Watch it, Teddy Boy. We have to start practicing.”
“Spoilsport,” he muttered, putting on a mock pout.

“Okay,” the show host said, smiling glamorously at the cameras. “I’d like you to welcome our special guests of tonight all from the bands Sum 41, MEST and Ashes of Dreams, who played here in Miami last night. A great show, might I add. On team one: Nicholas Gigler, Angel Lydon and Stephan Jozc. On team two: Deryck Whibley, Christine Cameron and Anthony Lovato. On team three: Matthew Lovato, Deirdre Morgan and Jason McCaslin. And finally on team four: Jeremiah Rangel, Johanne Bergkamp and David Baksh.”
A roar of applause rose in the audience as the twelve walked into the studio for the second time, each taking their respective seats.
“What’s with all the full names?” D-Sept asked, covering the microphone with her hand.
“I’ve no fucking clue,” Cone answered. “But whoever came up with it is in for a nice prank. I hate being called Jason.”
She just smiled sarcastically. “You think I’m too crazy about the Deirdre-deal? Nobody’s ever called me Deirdre since Dad left. Mum always just called me September.”
“Perhaps they just wanted to show off with the fact that they know all our names,” Matt suggested.
“Anyone with an Internet connection can find that out,” D-Sept said with a shrug. “I say they’re just fucking stupid.”
Their low conversation was cut short as the host started to talk again. “So, as we all know: the rules are simple. Every team picks a category for each of the other teams amongst the ones listed on your monitors. Each category has eight different questions and with each correct answer your instrument,” he said, pointing at the small carts each holding an instrument, “will move a pace number randomly selected by our computers, picking up bonus prices along the way. If the answer you give is incorrect your turn is over and you will be forced to move a number of fields backwards equalling the last amount of paces you went forward.” He gave off a huge smile. “Whoever reaches goal first wins the grand price of 25,000 dollars to give to whichever organisation you may choose.”
“Alright,” Steve said with a grin. “But do we get to keep the bonus prices?”
“Of course. But whenever two instruments are on the same field you’ll get a bonus question and whoever answers the quickest gets to choose one of the others’ bonus prices.”
“Cool,” the drummer said, nodding.
“Let the game begin,” the host said, once again showing off his set of straight, white teeth.
The three bassists were overlooking their options, lowly discussing their options.
“Geography,” Matt said. “That’s always a winner.”
“No way,” D-Sept muttered. “Look again and you’ll notice it says ‘European geography’. I don’t want to hand that to any of my band mates. We’ve been through Europe the first five or more times and pretty much know it by heart. I know Americans don’t know shit,” she sent him a teasing smile. “But there’s a Brit on each team.”
“How about ‘world history’?” Cone asked.
“Good one,” Matt agreed.
“Yeah…” the girl consented. “But who to give it to?”
“I say the drummers,” Cone suggested. “Steve never liked history. He skipped every class he could get away with skipping.”
“Dev isn’t really keen on it either,” D-Sept told, slowly nodding her head.
“Nick’s fucking stoned. He won’t do good in anything,” Matt replied with a grin.
“Alright,” D-Sept said, moving the mouse to make the selection. “The drummers it is.” She skimmed the list again. “Pop music,” she said, looking at the monitor weirdly. “They must’ve put that on to provoke us.”
“Definitely. The rhythm guitarists?” Cone replied.
“No way,” Matt said. “When Tony was younger he had a secret passion for pop.”
“He did?” D-Sept asked with a grin. “Never would’ve guessed. So we give it to the lead guitarists? Jo will kill me.”
“Don’t worry,” Cone replied. “We won’t let her. But just give them the category.”
“There’s a language category?” Matt asked credulously. “Auch. I hope nobody gives that to us.”
“Don’t worry,” the girl said. “They won’t. I have a knack for languages and all the girls know that. I speak five fluidly, two are a bit rusty and then I know the most used phrases of most European languages not to mention Arab, Turkish, Mandarin and Japanese.”
“Damn, girl,” Cone muttered. “I had no idea.”
She smiled sweetly.
Matt laughed. “’The seventies’. They put a decade down as a category?”
“Obviously,” Cone said. “None of the rhythm guitarists were born in the seventies, right?”
“Nope,” D-Sept answered. “Let’s just give them that one and get this show done with.”
A moment later everybody was through with their selections and the quiz started.
“Okay team one. You need to pick one of the categories selected for you to be asked a question from. Your categories are: politics today, world history and languages,” the show host said smilingly.
Steve groaned loudly into his mic before he looked quizzically at Dev.
“Languages,” she said.
He looked at her even more dumbstruck than before.
“I hang out with CC and D-Sept all the time,” she explained with a shrug. “I’m bound to have picked something up.”
“Say ‘thank you’, ‘yes’ and ‘hello’ in Albanian.”
“Oh fuck,” Dev groaned. “This sucks. We’ve only been there once.” She wrinkled her forehead in thought, fists on the table. “Falimenderit, pô and mirdîta,” she finally said, rolling enormously on the r’s. “I think that’s how it’s pronounced,” she added lowly.
“Great,” the host remarked, punching a huge, shiny button to make random numbers cross over the wall screen before they finally stopped on 3. A young boy stepped out and pushed the cart with the bass drum on it three fields forwards.
“What should we take now?” Steve asked.
She shrugged. “What do you think?”
“I think that I don’t even want to get close to the history category,” he said. “Should we take another language?”
“Yeah I guess,” she replied.
“Say ‘hello’ and ‘where’s the hotel?’ in Swahili,” the host said.
“What the fuck’s Swahili?” Dev asked surprised.
“I think it’s something African. I don’t know, though.”
“Damnit,” she muttered. “I think we’ll have to pass that question,” she told the host.
“Alright,” the host replied as the boy came out again to move their cart back to zero. “Team two?”
D-Sept zoned out as the rhythm guitarists answered correctly twice and had to make a pass at the third question, leaving them four fields from zero and with the first picked up bonus price, three two-pound bags of jellybeans.
“What category do we choose?” Matt asked, hauling her attention back to the quiz.
“What do we have?” she asked.
“Classical music, maladies and black and white movies,” Cone summed up, sending her a small smile.
“I don’t care,” she said with a shrug. “You guys choose.”
“What about classical music?” Cone asked. “Who knows… there might actually be something we recognise.”
“Alright,” Matt said. “Bring it on.”
“Put on the music,” the host ordered.
A moment later they were listening to a slightly familiar piece of very ‘unlike them’ music.
“I think my Mum used to listen to this when I still lived with her,” D-Sept said slowly. “I think she liked classical music.” She paused, thinking shortly. “It’s ‘Winter’ of ‘Four Seasons’ by…” she trailed off, having forgotten the name. She looked questioningly at her team mates. “Haydn?” she whispered the question, covering her mic.
“No, no,” Matt corrected. “’Four Seasons’ was composed by what’s his name?… the Italian guy. Something with a V.”
“Vivaldi,” Cone suddenly burst. He looked up at the show host. “Vivaldi,” he repeated, a little louder this time.
“Correct,” the host said, once again smiling professionally.
“Damn, we make a good team,” D-Sept grinned victoriously as their cart moved five fields forward.

“We were SO good!” D-Sept grinned, walking out of the studio with Cone’s arm slung casually around her shoulders.
“Of course we were,” he grinned. “The others thought we were doomed for sitting next to each other and having Matt in such close proximity to Jo. They never got over the shock.”
She just smiled, admiring her newly won cell phone shortly before she put it in her purse and took a candy bar out of the huge package she carried in the other hand.
“Don’t spoil your appetite,” he warned as they entered their cab. “We want to be hungry for our date night.”

A/N: Hi. Sorry it took so fucking long, but I'd pretty much given up on this site. For months I didn't get any reviews, but now I decided to check. And I had three. And they were already months old. So apparently I didn't stick to my promise. But... Better late than never, I guess.
Anyway, I'll try to check more often and put another chapter up when I get the next review.
Later!
Elle:)
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Ashes of Dreams