Surrounded by Poseurs

The janitor/drummer/demon’s expression shifted from shock, to what briefly seemed like anger, to friendliness, or at least trying to look friendly. “Hey! You’re the Lamashtu fans from yesterday! How’s everything going?” The janitor broke the silence with his thick, Eastern European accent. Both of us continued to stare with our mouths agape for a few more seconds. Eventually Travis somehow managed to blurt out the worst possible thing he could say to the person who was not only an insane metal drummer, but also responsible for saving our butts, and our ticket to notoriety in the metal scene: “Are you even supposed to be here?” First Tom Seiks, now the janitor. You are on a roll today, Travis. The janitor didn’t seem to be offended. “Heh heh heh, I could ask you that same question. How did you even get in through the back door? Shouldn’t it be locked?” I […]

The kids on our bus were not the only ones who avoided eye contact with Travis and me unless it was the deer-caught-in-headlights look. No one came near us if they could help it. No one stood in our way. No one threw anything at us. No one shoulder-checked us. A few people even walked into trash cans and support beams trying to stay away from us. As soon as we entered a classroom, the usual rancor of unruly students immediately ceased. We probably did 25% of our teachers’ jobs for them that day. Despite both of us simultaneously having this exact same experience, Travis and I were on completely different wavelengths. He was still stuck on the guitar strings the janitor gave me yesterday that I “dropped,” even though I don’t bring my music gear to school. I was more concerned with what we were supposed to do now […]

“Dude, I still can’t get over what happened yesterday. You sure that wasn’t your guardian angel?” Travis said. We were at the bus stop the next morning after a new janitor the size of a tank rescued us from Jeff and his gang of douchebags who were about to tear us a new one. “Did that look like an angel to you?” I replied, “Look, I already explained this to you. I accidentally ran into him in the hallway while going to meet you, ran away thinking he was going to either get me in trouble or beat me up, and I guess I must have dropped my guitar strings in the process. He probably came looking for me to give them back and happened to show up at the right time.” “See, that’s the part I don’t understand,” Travis objected, “Why did you have a pack of guitar strings […]

I am the baddest, most brutal, most metal guy in this entire town. My death growl sounds like it comes from the depths of hell. I can shred with the best of them. No one in this town is more metal than me. But there’s not much competition for that title in Felmore. My name is Eric, I’m a 13 year-old student at Felmore Middle School, a suburban public school that is nearly identical to every other suburban public school in America. I’m five foot four, weigh 120 pounds, my skin is blindingly pale, and I have red hair that I’m trying to grow out. I have lived in Felmore my entire life, and if it weren’t for Travis, I would have absolutely nothing to do. Travis has been my best friend since kindergarten. He’s the only other person in this town who is metal (not as metal as me, […]