Chuckjd's Words

a convenient dumping ground for my writing

1989/04/24

24 April, 1989 – The Bradfield living room

“Fuck you!”

“No! Fuck you! You tossers don’t get it. You don’t understand punk. I’m punk.”

“You’re about as punk as my grandma!”

“You know what, I’m going to be a rock god someday, you fucking watch.”

“You? You can’t even play your bass!”

“I play it like Sid Vicious, and he only had two strings.”

“You only have two strings because four is too many for you to figure out!”

James and Flicker (born Miles Woodward, but that name was deemed “unpunk”) were in each other’s faces at this point, shouting, spitting, and generally turning red in the face, pointing fingers and squaring shoulders. It was a very lucky thing that Mr. and Mrs. Bradfield weren’t home, because the language was hitting a new low.

Unlike James, Nicky had given up already, bored with the whole scene. He couldn’t wait for the damn thing to be over and done with so he could go home. He had already given Flicker a piece of his mind, but the part of his mind concerned with Flicker was very small, so he hadn’t had much to say. That was new for him. It didn’t matter, though, because James could hold his own better than anyone he knew anyway.

James and Flicker continued to stare at each other, nose to nose (well, as nose to nose as they could be), until Flicker visibly backed down. It was as if his chest had deflated a little, his nostrils ceased to flare, and he wasn’t quite as red anymore.

“Piss off,” he mumbled as he grabbed his gear and left, slamming the front door.

“Don’t fucking come back, you sod!” James called after him. He practically beat his chest in masculine triumph.

James turned to Nicky, a victorious smile still on his face.

“What do we do now?” Nicky asked, pointing out the obvious flaw in James’ conclusion to the fight.

James’ smile faded and he looked over to Sean behind the drum set for some sort of help. Sean barely shrugged.

“We’ll figure something out,” James finally replied, more likely to reassure himself than anyone else. He scratched his scalp, resting his arms over his head. “He was shite anyway. You have to agree with me on that one.”

Nicky stood up and began to pace slowly. Everyone was quiet now, all trying to think of what was next in their plan of world domination through Rock and Roll. The Bradfield house was eerily quiet. Nicky’s footsteps almost echoed, if it wasn’t for the carpeting. He stopped suddenly and looked over at the other two, still deep in thought.

“What about Richey?”

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Filed under: Timeline:Original/Nicky, ,

2 Responses

  1. Okay, I’ve got this far having completely fallen in love with the story (Manics fic is far too rare!) but I was just wondering about the password protected entry above – is there a password somewhere and I’m just stupid enough to have missed it, or are you onky giving it out to certain people? Anyway, bloody amazing so far – will be looking forward to updates :D

  2. chuckjd says:

    Sorry for taking forever to reply! There is no public password, those are just entries I need to work on. Tweaking to make it accurate and all that. Thanks so much for reading and enjoying! I’ve been brainstorming and throwing around a lot of ways to tell the story from where I’ve left off. Soon!

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