Live Every Second

|| Abbie’s POV ||

I ran into the apartment I shared with my best friend, nearly screaming with my excitement. Sonnie and I had lived together for the last three years, ever since we had started our own band, Zombie Anesthetic, with our ex best friend Corey. Corey was our bassist, and she lived with us too until her and Sonnie got in a huge fight after one of the mini shows we were playing and Corey decided she had enough of Sonnie’s bitching. Sonnie was tired of our best friend being a “diva-whore-face-slut-bag”. Very blunt about the whole thing.

So Corey quit and moved out that night, we haven’t seen or heard from her in three months. Go figure, we haven’t been able to find a new bassist either.

“Sonnie!” I screamed, having to tell her the good news and finding her sprawled out on the couch. She was plucking at the strings of her guitar as was usual for her, I grinned at her. “Sonnie, I have the best news ever!” I told her, having to stop myself from jumping up and down.

“Corey decided to agree she was a slut and decided to come back?” She guessed, peaking up at me from under some of the braids that stayed in her face.

I laughed, shaking my head, “As if you’d even let her back without a written apology, and even then you’d still hate her.” I said, brushing the red away from my face, “Better. We totally got a call today.” I knew she would know what I meant.

She sighed; shaking her head completely at me and it threw her braided hair from her face, “Yeah? Now tell me, Abbie. How are we supposed to do anything without a bassist?” She asked, her words holding a hiss.

My grin only widened, “You.” I told her, as though it was the most obvious answer in the world.

She glared at me, “Dude,” her voice was near venomous, “I play guitar, and sing. Where does ‘Sonnie is a bass player’ go into that?” She asked.

“David Jost said that if you play guitar well enough, that a bass would be easy peasy to learn!”

“I don’t care what David Jo- wait…” She froze, looking at me again with wide eyes, “David Jost?” She asked, I nodded. She pushed her guitar off of her and onto the couch before she stood up with her hands on her hips, “As in David Jost? Manager?”

“As in David Jost, manager of Tokio Hotel who just lost their bassist and their drummer all at once. He remembered us from our last show a few months ago.”

Sonnie groaned, “The show with Corey.” She said matter-of-factly.

“Yeah! I know, isn’t it great?” I asked, wishing that my excitedness would get her off her ass to be the least bit excited with me.

“Yeah… yeah absolutely great,” she said, her tone slick with sarcasm, “Except for the fact that you forgot, yet again, that I don’t play bass!”

“No! No Sonnie, you don’t get it! He didn’t even ask about Corey, he said your name and mine specifically. Because I thought the same thing at first too, and he was like, ‘No, the one who was singing as well’. It was us he wanted, Sonnie! I can’t do this without you… please?” I said in almost a whining tone that I knew would help me to get my way.

I watched her as she chewed one of her snake-bites into her mouth, thinking hard before her shoulders slumped and I squealed, “When do we meet him?” She asked in defeat.

“Two hours…” I told her, “Can you be ready?” Sonnie only nodded before stalking off to her bedroom.