Hey, hey! How’s everybody doing? Here I present you a story I was very excited to finally post, I had a really fun time writing it. I even laughed! So I hope you guys all enjoy its complete madness even more! It has a Sixteen Candles feel with a smidge of The Breakfast Club, or so I feel (For those who haven’t seen those movies I recommend them. For those who hate 80’s movies… those two are really good, I say this just because I don’t particularly fancy 80’s shit myself. For those who love clichés, you must have watched those movies!). This is the second Chronicle (even if it isn’t the second I thought up, it’s actually the newest) in my I Didn’t Notice You Chronicles, so I bet you guys can easily tell what it’s gonna go about, huh? Even if judging by the mane only.

Enjoy!

Ah, to clear something up, it’s in the M section because of the vast use of lovely swearing words, and because the leading character says or thinks things that might offend some people. I hope no one gets offended; after all, that’s just his personality.

Disclaimer: There will be many things named that AG doesn’t own. Sixteen Candles and The Breakfast Club aren’t AG’s, AG also doesn’t know who owns them, she only knows the name of an actress there (Molly Ringwald). The Pontiac Sunfire is a car manufactured by the General Motors, model 1995; I don’t even own one, never mind the model or brand, or the industry (snorts). The Dixie Chicks I don’t own either, I don’t even like them (hello to the fans! Lol). 50 Cents owns himself, or Eminem does, or his record label does, I don’t know. On with the show!

The First Hour

I pulled the Sunfire to a stop near the party house. It’s fairly easy to recognize, the thing’s bright like a Christmas tree, the music’s making the whole neighbourhood vibrate to the rhythm of the crap’s it’s blasting; kids are running around in practically all directions, fully drunk and half naked some, others switching the parts. I turned my Aunt May’s music off; if I drove in silence I’d have fallen asleep on the fucking wheel and I probably would have become smashed potato… Still, the Dixie Chicks? The hell, dude…

I turned the motor off and put the safety devices, I was wondering why in the mother-hen it was so dark, but I figured the shades I’m wearing had something to do with that. I took a deep breath; then I glanced again at the house. Is that… Is that- I squinted; oh man, these people are piss wasted already, and it’s only –I looked at my watch- eight something! Jeesh. I think someone’s going to want their underwear back. I snickered before going out of the car. I fixed my black tie; the knot had been loosened a bit on the long drive from the funeral. I tucked my tongue against my cheek and looked back at my Aunt’s car; the blue Sunfire was barely visible in the dark street, the only light around came from the party house. I looked from one to the other, am I doing the right thing? I know Uncle Jay would have wanted me to come to the party and finally get the girl; Aunt May might not agree. Maybe that’s why she was glaring at me when I took her Sunfire’s keys; maybe she thinks I should be mourning Uncle Jay like a crying puss. But that’s not my thing, it wasn’t Uncle Jay’s either… I know he wouldn’t want me to cry him a river.

I squared my back and put the shades back on, even if it was dark enough. “This is for you, Uncle Jay.” I murmured as I started walking towards the house. Hopefully the old man over there will give me a hand or two tonight, he damn well knows how much of a wimp I am, even if I don’t look like one. I swear, if someone asks me about Bobby I’m going to burst…

There was a girl in underwear giggling and running after some smashed fuckface who just so happened to have ran into me. The leech latched onto my arm and burped on my suit. My. Fucking. Suit. I kicked the sucker off me. “The bloody…” This party sure as hell looks promising. I was gonna push the door open when someone materialized in front of me.

Giggles, and more giggles. “Lisa! Lisa! You have to come and…” This girl’s drunk too, or high. Maybe both. She’s half dressed, too. That’s quite the view… “Hey there, baby.” She drawled and I looked at her. Oh, it’s with me.

“Hey.” I decided ignoring a drugged skank was a good choice, so I walked past her, shit was, I forgot skanks like her have sharp claws and they use them to… grab. I turned around to glare and tried to shake my arm off. Damn, this bitch must be a transvestite; she’s strong like a bull!

“Not so fast, gorgeous.” She purred and pressed her breasts against my forearm. I tugged harder. “Where are you going?”

“Away.” I snatched my arm, suddenly someone bumped against me and I grabbed the poor fool’s shoulders and pushed him towards the whore. I made a mad dash dodging people talking, dancing, making out, but generally drinking. God damn, where can I get something strong? I need booze. I started looking around for a familiar face, but all I saw were faces of high-schoolers. Where in the hell were the people my age? Someone brushed my butt cheeks and I whipped my head around, but no one looked suspicious, so I let it go. I hate this about parties, you always get molested and if you try to molest a chick, you, being a dude, suddenly find yourself with two brothers, a cousin or more and a boyfriend –at times more- willing to wring your neck for touching their pure, innocent and untainted gal. Fuck me.

“Hey!” I frowned, where’s she? This is her house, for fuck’s sake, she must be around somewhere! “Hey, you!” I stretched my neck to look at the dance floor, more or less what used to be the living room; she usually hangs around that area in a party, because she’s loud and feisty and likes to be where the energy is. She is the energy, the soul of the party. Fuck, where’s that red head? Maybe she’s dyed it? “Yoohoo! Heyo! It’s with you!” That’s the least of my problems, what if she’s got a boyfriend? Someone had the balls to grab me and turn me around; I held back a malefic grin knowing that now it is not easy to do such a thing. My eyebrows rose, though, there’s a skinny asshole smiling with metal teeth at me. “I’ve been calling you for a while, dude!”

“Oh, really?” I drawled monotonously.

“Yeah!” This snake-boy is too chirpy for my taste. “I know you, you’re Bobby Brian’s little brother!”

Now I plainly dislike him. I gritted my teeth. “Yeah, so?”

“You don’t remember me?” Oh yeah babe, that’s the face I wanna see; except with the pout, that can’t be manly.

“Frankly, no.” Should I? In any case my excuse is that we graduated like four years ago, it’s not like I remember every single excuse of a human that graduated around the same time as me. Shit, what if my vixen doesn’t remember me either? I mean, I’ve changed and all, but man, it’d be real sad if she doesn’t… Fuck, now how do I approach her?

“Oh.” That’s some crestfallen face. Sadder is the fact that I don’t feel bad about it. “Well,” He rubbed his right hand against his pants and then offered it to me. I failed to comply. Is this kid dressed up as a nerd or is it his normal attire? Who cares. “I’m Rob Roubin.”

“Uh huh.” Oh, oh! A red head! “Listen Todd,”

“Rob.”

“Rob,” I continued, not giving him a glance. “I gotta go, got people to meet-” Which he probably doesn’t, considering he’s introducing himself to someone that supposedly went to school with him. That’s so pathetic, unless he’s gay. I quickly jumped away from the dude at the thought. “-Places to be, so bye!”

I sighed; two girls glanced at me and giggled, twins disguised as an angel one and a devil the other one. I smirked my lopsided smirk. Something dark passed by me and the girls grabbed on to it –a dude-. My smirk dropped. Damn! I can’t believe I still don’t get the girls hot for me, after all the workout! I frowned, maybe it’s because I’m Bobby’s little brother, I’m like his fucking shadow. I frowned until I could hardly see anymore. There was a change in the music, rap came up. I hate rap. I groaned. Once again I made another sweeping glance at the perimeter; no redheaded vixen, no one known. Some kid walked next to me with a cup of beer. I snatched it.

“Hey!”

People’s full of hey’s for me, aren’t they? I smirked again and took a large gulp, throwing a “Piss off!” over my shoulder. I walked nearer to the dance floor and wham! That’s where I saw her, right where I knew she’d be, dressed like a sexy maid in black. I’d kill for a maid like her; I’d make her call me master… among making her do other things. Then, watching her, I felt this weird, sensation… My whole body got paralyzed, but my mind was going something alike:

“Move you moron! Move! Walk up to her and shove her against the wall and have your dirty way with her, right here, right now! Just move, for booze’s sake!”

Booze, I need to loosen up. I took another gulp. But I couldn’t move a fucking muscle.

I thought after three years of pimping myself I’d grow some balls to approach her. Actually, I thought taking another gulp, after the three years we studied together in high school I only managed to squeak a little phrase at her, and only because I thought she was someone else. My voice box dimmed the volume once I noticed I had told her to fuck off –way to go, mate-; but she only laughed at me. Not with me, at me. After that I didn’t try again. Who would have known Bobby Brian’s little brother was such a pissy? Definitely not me. I gulped down the whole beer.

She’s with people, a girl and some guys. The other girl’s fucking some dude’s forearm with only her chest; he doesn’t seem to dislike it, if I judge by the lecherous looks he tosses at her. The other guys are flirting with the vixen, but she’s toying with them, like she always does. They look comfortable together.

“Fuck…” I just noticed the guys are her friends from school, there’s one I know. We played football soccer together in the varsity team, but he managed to catch her attention and become her boyfriend –even if she dumped him like a sad dog after a short while; whatever he did, he deserved it, he’s a jerkface-. I didn’t even get a hello. Another scrawny kid passed with a beer cup, again I snatched it and just when he was opening his mouth I flipped him the bird. That got him going.

I slurped the whole damn thing at once. I really need to loosen up if I want to make her look away from her ex’es.

“Ho, ho. Slow down, my man,” I sighed, like you do when you drink something good? All haah, like that, and turned to the familiar voice. It was Mike Morello, he had been one of my best friends in school. “You gonna get smashed pretty early if you keep drinking like that.”

I smirked and palmed his shoulder. “You know I can hold my liquor well.” He nodded and gave a dejected sigh. I raised my eyebrows. “What’s with the long face?” By all means that meant “Wassup buddy, how’s it swinging?”

“It’s Macy.” His all time girlfriend, I nodded and stoned my face not to grimace in front of him. “She doesn’t like it when I drink.”

“Right…” I drawled sarcastically, raising my eyebrows at the thought of a former quarterback –now dressed like a giant parrot, that or I just don’t know what the hell he’s dressed at, it’s very colourful- being wiped to obedience by a little brunette like Macy. I looked around. But hell, she’s got spunk, a lot. “Where’s she, by the way?”

“She went to greet some of her friends.”

“Right.” I repeated. Ugh, her friends, those were some harpies. I suppressed a shudder.

“So, Troy,” I made a ball of the paper cup and glanced around for another kid that looked like a minor to tell him I was an undercover cop and would dump him in jail if he doesn’t give me his drink. I look like one, either way. But nah, no one worthy in sight. “You are…” I looked at Mike and saw him staring intently at my hair. “Taller.”

I instantly felt annoyed, more so as he grinned. “No shit, Sherlock.” I was tiny in school, thin like a wet rat and short like chair. All in all I made quite the toothpick –in almost all dimensions wise, almost-. Now… lets just say things are a bit different.

He barked a laugh and clapped my shoulder, I waved his hand off. “You’re giving Bobby a run for his money now.” Not that he’s got many, none the less my chest inflated at the compliment. That’s the kind of shit that makes a man feel good, when someone tells you that you’ve beat the shit out of your golden boy brother in the looks department; what with the permanent fan club he’s got everywhere he goes. May the bastard rot in hell.

Just why don’t I have a fan club too? I’m not fugly!

“Yeah well,” I started, all with fake modesty. “I’ve worked hard.”

“I bet.” He snorted and folded his arms, the movement made me catch the frilly… things on his arms and my lips twitched wanting to sneer. Now I know what he’s dressed up as. “You were a wire back in high school.”

I glared, but maybe because of the shades the effect went down the drain. “It’s not my fault I got the contaminated waters of our family pool.” He laughed at my expenses, but his joy won’t last long. “Mike, why the fuck are you wearing a samba dress?”

“It’s not a dress!” Now I was the one doing the merry sound. “And it’s lambada.”

“Whatever man.” I wiggled my eyebrows at him. “Someone’s wiped by a certain dominatrix.” He smacked the back of my head; it made my shades slide down my nose. But still, I was laughing too hard to care about the bump that’d grow in the morning. The fucker hits with anger…

“You stupid ass-”

“Mike!” I cringed; that’s the sound of Mike’s lovely girl. I had to bite both my lips not to laugh at Macy Jones wearing a salsa dress. Or samba, lambada, whatever. She ran all excitedly towards her man, oozing pheromones that warned any other female in the room not to come close to her man if they want to keep their eyes in their eye sockets. She’s just that adorable, I assure you; all joy and love. Thus, I wasn’t at all demoralized when she screeched to a halt in front of me –never forgetting to grab her man’s arm to her tiny, but evil body- and gave me a glare, a sneer and a look that clearly meant business. I actually feel flattered; usually her response to seeing me is worse. Much worse. “You.”

“Me.” I said back, like the petulant and insolent child I grew to be. What can I say, I like pain. I wrinkled my nose and with that pushed the shades up; I should have pushed them with a finger to look sleek… Damn, I got a lot to learn.

In turn she looked at her man with an innocent face. My back stiffened, I was instantly on guard. “Is Bobby coming? He’s so cool to hang around with.” I fisted my hands at the direct indirect, am I not cool enough for you, Macy? Mike gave me an apologetic look because he knows the Bobby issue is touchy. How come this bitch charmed my friend into her pants? Shouldn’t it be the other way around? How come they’ve lasted this long? How come I’ve never re-arranged her face? She smiled sweetly at me; it turned down at my stony face and raised eyebrows. That’s because of the shades, bless them; they hid the raging tornado inside. She just knows where the fuck my buttons are and just how to push them. She knows it pisses me off that everybody’s like Bobby’s so perfect, Bobby’s so hot, Bobby’s so nice, Bobby’s so sexy and I want to lick his testicles. And I’m not Bobby! He was everybody’s golden boy, the heartthrob, the good student, the fabulous son.

I’m the black sheep, where Bobby’s blonde, I’m black haired, where he’s got the blue eyes, I got them green like envy. Where he’s nice, I’m snappy, where he’s smart, I’m lazy. Where he was the town’s prodigy, I’m the prodigy’s little brother; the scrawny little brother; the shy, scrawny little brother; the stupid, shy, scrawny little brother; the… You get it.

So I grew to that standard, well, trying to fit it. Even my parents looked at me with some pity, like I wasn’t truly their child –sadly, I am their child-, like I was a failure already just ‘cause I couldn’t come up to Bobby’s heels. Bobby never gave two shits about it, he treated me like his favourite little brother –that’s stupid, I’m his only sibling-, he even told everybody he loved me just how I was. Everybody then went off about how cute and loving was Bobby. And I? Well hell, I was left seething because I wanted to hate the mould of perfection Bobby is, just ‘cause I couldn’t reach it, and I couldn’t because… the mothercunt is too nice to be hated! So what the hell, lets hate myself for a while, ey?

I wanted to tell her “No, Bobby ain’t coming, darling. He’s in his flat getting stoned out of cocaine and fucking a random whore he picked from the streets.” just to see how she reacts. But no, Bobby isn’t going to come; he’s being the nice boy of the family, once again, by helping Aunt May with the funeral thing for Uncle Jay, while I am at this useless party looking forward to getting smashed and maybe hitting the sack with one of the most popular girls from my generation.

“Gotta go, Mike.” I looked away from the happy couple. “See you later.” Mike said something, but for once may rap be blessed, I couldn’t hear it.

I made my way towards the dance floor; I lost sight of the sexy vixen because of Mike and his bitch. I cursed in my head and refrained a foot from stomping the floor like a whiny brat. I folded my arms and looked around; the crowd quickly closed around me, all rubbing against each other to 50. I felt some people grinding against me; those of the male kind received a punch or two from me.

There was a girl nearby dancing alone; she was good enough, not like the vixen that drove me mad in my entire high school career, hell no. But she was hot, and alone. I shrugged to myself, if I can’t get her to melt at my sole sight I’ll burn her on the dance floor, so I tapped her shoulder, I shouted if I could dance with her, she asked “What?” and I repeated. We ended up dancing for a while and I smirked as I noted her approval when she wrapped her arms around my neck and got closer. I got an uncle who is the luckiest bastard in the world, his wife is a Latin woman named Rosalia, that woman dances so well you can’t help the stallion from getting excited. Anyways, she gave me a class or two, back when I was still an awkward teen who didn’t get any. When I grew out of that stage –I was a pretty late bloomer. Lucky for me, because I was already trying to cope with living my whole life in a toothpick body-, I found out my dancing moves were a great way to attract some legs.

There was this once a guy said I was gay because I danced so well, he got my fist introduced to his nose. It turned out he was just seeing green because I was charming the underwear off of his girl. Too bad for him, not my fault he can’t get a hold of his sheep.

I saw a red mane of hair move next to me, and my body froze again, hoping to catch a glimpse of the girl I came for. Maybe I can impress her with my moves? I turned around, looking for a dark maid, but it seemed as though the mass of dancing bodies swallowed her alive.

PD: AG doesn’t advice underage drinking. All in all drinking isn’t supposedly to be good, it kills neurons, you know. But what the hell, a cup or two from time to time… Just as long as you guys don’t do the shit some characters will pull in this party. Okay? We don’t want people saying AG is a bad influence… Lol.

Armith-Greenleaf