Age nineteen: Michael Pritchard
I sat, in a restaurant, alone. My thoughts went on, my hands making movements as if I was playing a bass.
Two guys came up to me, one wearing a skirt, one who seemed to be wearing something underneath his shirt.
Looked a bit like a sports bra....
"HEYO!" The guy in the skirt practically screamed. "You seem to like play the bass, maybe?"
"Uhm-" I stuttered. "Yeah?"
The two exchanged glances.
"Oh, and before we forget, I'm Billie!"
"And I'm Karina- shit I had a Drawfee moment- Tré!" Tré finished.
"Well, I'm Michael... Call me Mike." I looked up, feeling a bit more confident.
Billie grinned as he grabbed something from his bag. "Close your eyes Mr. Dirnt."
I closed my eyes, and felt Blue put something on my head.
I felt a hand wrap around my back.
"Open your eyes."
I open my eyes, and Billie's infront of me, wearing bunny ears, and Tré is wearing (insert whatever he is bc I can tfind meme and no one will give).
Then WHO-?
I try to reach up to touch what's on my head, but the person behind me reveals themselves.
It was... No one? What? Weird.
"Let's go, cat I'm taking you the-" Billie get cut off by Tré saying.
"Place where I belong...."
"Ok, shut up, babr. I'm taking you, sir cat, to our base."
"To your base?" I was a bit confused as we walked.
"AKA the studio." Tré said.
Ahh. NO SERIOUSLY AHHHHHHHHH.
I ran towards the studio, feeling the demons try to get at me.
Meanwhile...
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