Then the first chords of the keyboard starts. Sophie grins at her, her blue eyes sparkling with anticipation.Ĭlem smiles back, but honestly? She has no idea what to expect from Troubled Youth. Clem takes a swig of her beer, already feeling a little warm at the body heat that’s gathering behind her. The air is charged with a thrilling energy, restless people bouncing on the balls of their feet. Let’s go!” Minnie yells the last part of her sentence, her enhanced voice echoing off the walls which causes a chain reaction of partygoers shouting and cheering, eager to hear some live music. “And… yeah, I think that’s everything I was supposed to say. “We’re Troubled Youth! Huge thanks to everyone who showed up and an even bigger thanks to Josh for inviting us to come play.”įew people applaud and let out a whoop, majority still in conversation. The boisterous nattering of the crowd dies down to a low buzz. A short, popping noise emits from the speaker, then her voice projects through it. “Okay! Hey everybody- Oops, the mic isn't plugged in.” Minnie-as everyone is calling her-laughs, and bends down to plug the mic in the amp. “Great, love the enthusiasm.” The guy who says this stations himself behind a keyboard. Let's fucking play so I can go get drunk.” “Thanks, man,” the recipient of the guitar-Marlon?-says. “Here, Marlon,” a guy says, removing a guitar from around him then handing it over. “I'm ready whenever you guys are,” she says to her bandmates.Ī blonde girl with a bass guitar laid across her torso takes a shot out of a flask and passes it back to the redhead. It's another struggle to get to the front, but somehow they pull it off and now have a clear view of the band of the night.Ī tall girl with copper hair chopped short stands in the front, idly tossing a microphone from one hand to the other. In a blink of an eye, the once tolerable crowd has developed into a mob of rowdy teens, all huddled in the living room. “Now that we got our drinks, let's go get good spots.” Suddenly, the sharp strum of an electric guitar cuts through the air. She even compliments Clem on her hat which causes her cheeks to warm when she replies with, “Thanks.” They get their drinks relatively fast, thanks to the pretty girl with the raven-colored hair handing out bottles of beer to everyone who walks by. She moves when the other girl moves, dodging shoulder collisions and wild hand gestures from overly enthusiastic conversationalists-not to mention the train of guys passing by, each one holding a piece to a drum kit above their heads. In an attempt to keep toes from being stepped on, Clem stays close to Sophie. “Follow me.” The girls navigate their way through the growing crowd of chattering teens. “You want a drink?” Sophie asks Clementine when she’s back at her side. The jacket comes off with a small sigh and is handed to Sophie, who in turn walks it to a closet with the door ajar, and suspends it from a coat rack mounted on the back of the door. The less layers you have on, the better.” Sophie is an example of this, dressed in a pair of fitted jeans and a blue shirt that leaves one shoulder exposed. “Trust me, it’s gonna get real crowded in here soon. Here, give me your jacket.” Sophie holds out her hand expectantly.Ĭlem fingers the zipper of her jean jacket, reluctant to give it away. “You got here just in time because they’re gonna start playing super soon. “Remember I told you about my sister’s band?” “I’m so glad you’re here.” Sophie excitedly claps her hands together. Maybe things will be different this time. This was a rare opportunity so she took it. It's high school, therefore no one ever made the effort of including her in their already established social circles. She's not a party person, not by any means, but when Sophie came up to her at the end of 7th period and invited her to a house party (after knowing her for only a week), it felt wrong to turn her down. The lights are dimmed-creating a relaxed environment and casting a dream-like glow around the house.Ĭlem has enough experience being the “new girl”, and she can confidently say it sucks. Couches are pushed against walls as people filter in and out of the living room into the kitchen, grabbing drinks and laughing amicably. Bodies are scattered across the downstairs of the open-concept living space. “I don’t live far so I thought I’d stop by,” Clem says, taking a look around. Clem is only in the foyer when Sophie bounds up to her, red hair flowing behind her as she beams at the girl.
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