Kayito-san
Super-Earth
- Joined
- Jan 21, 2009
Allan slammed his fist on the table. "Don't give me that shit! We had a deal," he exclaimed, "You get rid of that pussy drummer, and then I'll play for you." Jean sighed, "Come on man, I know what he did was mean, but we need both of you for this band to work. He's a magnificent drummer, an I don't have to tell you that your hooks are what makes our shit catch. I've already signed for this tour! We can't possibly back down now." Allan shook his head, his long dark hair curled just below his shoulders. "No, Jean. I have too much else on my plate right now to deal with Jarred. He totalled my car on one of his drunken fucking rampages. I can't afford to go on this tour, I had to use the insurance money to pay for school. You're a good guy, Jean, you'll find a new guitarist." He stood and reached out his hand. Reluctantly, Jean shook it. Silently, they parted ways.
The door to Allan's apartment swung open with a loud whine. Allan sighed and grabbed his bag from the bench by the door. He ventured outside, steel-toed boots crunching loudly on the gravel outside. Black boots, narrow black jeans, illegible band t-shirt, leather jacket and aviators. A grim and silent individual, campus security had a real distaste for him. The bus stopped and he climbed on. Anybody who had conversed with him would have known that he wasn't all bad. It was his looks that seemed to suggest otherwise. He rode the transit every day to the University, but the minute he stepped on to that boring, vanilla campus he was greeted only with distasteful glances and rude comments. He was used to it, of course.
Allan 'Swamp' Ylette stepped of his first Monday class. None of the students in his classes ever seemed to know his name, or cared to, but it was only the third week in, and there were still many transfers taking place. He was already sick of the people leering at him and it had only been an hour long class...
The door to Allan's apartment swung open with a loud whine. Allan sighed and grabbed his bag from the bench by the door. He ventured outside, steel-toed boots crunching loudly on the gravel outside. Black boots, narrow black jeans, illegible band t-shirt, leather jacket and aviators. A grim and silent individual, campus security had a real distaste for him. The bus stopped and he climbed on. Anybody who had conversed with him would have known that he wasn't all bad. It was his looks that seemed to suggest otherwise. He rode the transit every day to the University, but the minute he stepped on to that boring, vanilla campus he was greeted only with distasteful glances and rude comments. He was used to it, of course.
Allan 'Swamp' Ylette stepped of his first Monday class. None of the students in his classes ever seemed to know his name, or cared to, but it was only the third week in, and there were still many transfers taking place. He was already sick of the people leering at him and it had only been an hour long class...