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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