2019-08-10 - Cheese-Safe Space

There was an answer to Sparrow's ad! Singular. One answer. A whole one bass player in all of Gray Harbor. Who uses Friendzone and is looking to play with other people, anyway. However you wanna count it, it's a success. An invitation is extended to come see what is likely to be the rehearsal space--given that it is a way bigger pain in the ass to pack up, lug around and set up drums than it is to grab a bass and go--and the brunette's waiting outside to greet her potential bandmate. It's a nice place in a nice part of town. Big house, detached garage, well-kept lawn. Does she live with her parents? Hard to tell given that there's nobody else visibly home when she leads Park through the house and down to the basement, babbling all the while. "Guitarist is radio silent today, but he's got a day job, so. Figure he's busy. Would love for him to be here, but you'll meet him soon enough anyway, right? Did you want a beer or something? Water? Lemonade?"

And what shows up? A hard-rocking punk with tattoos everywhere? Not quite. Rather a thin Asian girl dressed in torn jeans and a flannelette shirt is the one to answer the call. Blushing as she was greeted, she is nodding politely to Sparrow's words as they descend to where the magic happens. Doing her best not to be too nosey at the house around them. At least she's carrying a guitar case...and a backpack. "Bass really only needs the drummer" she offers quietly. "They make the rhythm that is the basis for everything." At least she sounds American - no accent. "I think we went to school together." A careful consideration of the drink offers. "Beer please." She's a rocker, of course she will go for beer.

Sparrow doesn't necessarily have the ring of 'rocker' to her either. Not at the moment. Cut off jean shorts and a white shirt with a blue ringer collar and the words I HAVE SEEN THE FUTURE on the front. Blue polish on her nails, shimmery green on her toes. Filthy bare feet like she's been wandering around shoeless outside all day. And her hair? Not nearly as neon as it had been in high school, but her smile's pretty unmistakable. With a snort, she says, "You should tell Jaime that," a pleased smile angled back over her shoulder. The basement is cool, even in the summer heat. And it's mostly empty. A couple of folding chairs, a drumset and, from the sound of it, a minifridge behind the small bar. The beer she pulls out is something atypical, a dry-hopped sour IPA, a little tart and a little bitter. She's got one for herself and one for Park, who she studies curiously. "Did we? What year?"

"I think you were in the year after me?" Park considers. "You had really bright hair. So cool" she giggles. Her own hair dyed white today. "I studied a lot so you might not have seen me. Not many did. Jaime? He's the guitarist? They do like to think of themselves as gods. I think it is to do with the long shaft. Oops...I mean 'neck' of course." She takes the beer with a smile and a polite nod of thanks. "This is where you practice? So cool that you have your own place." A sip of her beer causes an eyelid to spasm a little. "Very nice" she squeaks. "I should probably play for you."

"That was me," Sparrow confirms cheerfully with a wide, low-lidded smile. "See you're picking up the cool hair where I left off." One eyebrow cocks upward as her lips skew in the same direction, but it's a short look, followed by a short walk over to the chair behind her drums. She plunks down there, laughing for the wordplay, but shakes her head as she explains, "He's not like that," about Jaime. "Real chill. And connected. If we're actually able to get something workable together, he thinks he can get us some gigs. Our might-be-singer lives next door. Remember Runa Andersson? Fucking amazing." Her gaze unfocuses for a moment, nostalgia crosses her features briefly, almost certainly for Helgrind, their pop-punk from back in high school. "But yeah. Whenever you're comfortable. I'm in no rush."

"I had classes with Runa" Park replies excitedly. "Oh my gosh! You were Hellgrind. I loved that name. It was like evil and sexy all in one, you know? I mean, who doesn't like to grind and what better place to do it than Hell? Soooo rock and roll" she grins while opening up her case. Park actually has two instruments in there; a bass guitar and a keytar. "I can just plug into that amp?" she asks politely with a nod to the equipment in question. Park will be using her bass guitar for this audition. "Gigs would be pretty cool. Runa writes the songs?"

Sparrow gives a little brow-waggle for the 'evil and sexy' label. That dopey smile so does not fit the bill. Still, she throws up devil-horns all casual-like. "You'd be surprised how many disappointed death metal fans ended up at our shows." As few shows as they had, the existence of one whole disappointed metalhead would probably be surprising, but she sells it casually as hordes. With a nod toward the old gear, she encourages Park to use whatever she needs. "Runa wrote Helgrind's stuff. Jaime writes too. Hoping this'll be kinda collaborative, I guess? Figure we can start with some covers just to see how we sound best together, ya know? What feels right. Then go from there." Beat. "What do you like to play? What do you like to listen to?"

"I can play anything" Park enthuses - she wants this job! If she doesn't know how to play it, give her ten minutes and she will. "I listen to all kinds of music. I even listen to classic rock like 'The Monkees' and 'The Partridge Family'. And harder stuff too like David Bowie. Why would Death Metal fans be disappointed? You played awesome songs." A little frown. "Not that I herd many since I was not allowed to stay out that late." A quick clearing of her throat to dispel that memory before she starts to pluck at the thick bass strings. "I could do a funk riff?" More for bass players to do in that type of music. "But I can also do steady tracks from other styles." She starts with a riff from Chic - Le Freak.

Harder stuff like David Bowie. Why would death metal fans be disappointed in pop punk. Sparrow's head slowly tilts to the left as she listens to Park, her smile unwavering, but the rest of her expression growing mildly confused around it. "Yeah," she breathes about the same time as that throat-clearing. One index finger points up at the ceiling and, one would imagine, the rest of the house above it. "My, uh, friend, roommate? Whatever? Never really got to hear us play either. Corey and I were lucky. Real laidback parents." Which means they got away with hell. Even as she talks, her foot starts tapping to the bassline that Park's playing, head bobbing a bit. As she shifts in her seat to start getting comfy in front of her drums, she asks, "What do you do now?"

Oh how Park wishes she had laidback parents. If they knew what she was doing right now, they would hit the roof, each wall, and the floor as well. She will still play as she talks, proving she can do more than one thing at a time. "I still study" she sighs. "I am studying dentistry...for my parents. But what I really want to do is play." The riff becomes less fluid and more solid, a driving rock riff...of a kind - 'I Was Made for Loving You'. "To me, music is music, you know? Everyone should listen to everything. We all have so much to give each other."

Sparrow picks up her sticks, giving one a lazy twirl. Showing off? Maybe, but it's a simple trick. "Ouch," comes specifically at the 'for my parents' part, no judgment for the dentistry itself. Tentatively at first, she adds a little high-hat, just to catch the rhythm when Park falls into something steadier. By the time she says anything again, she's accompanying capably. A little sloppily, more passion than practice, but proof enough that she can follow along, that she knows her role. "I don't think we're aiming too high here. Just for reference. But playing? Just playing? Yeah. That's what I wanna do." She gives a little flourish before falling back into rhythm. "Why's music so important to you?"

"Because it is freedom?" Park replies, as if hearing the answer for the first time herself...and she likes it. "Freedom...but still structured. If that makes sense. I can express myself within the parameters of a universal metronome. Sounds. Rhythm. Melody. All bound up in joy and passion." She blushes brightly. "I think that was probably a bit soppy." Now she plays a 'simple' punk riff - fast, driven - but now with added funk flourishes. "Why do you play? You have played for so long. Played gigs and everything. You know what it is like to love something that will never hurt you and will always be there."

By the time Park turns that same question back on Sparrow, the drummer's already smiling like an idiot. She doesn't answer right away, happily keeping pace with the punk-funk fusion that the bassist is rocking. This feels more her speed, more natural, the aggression easily channelled into a frenetic riot crashing about in concert with those love, driving notes. And then she stops. Abruptly. Her hold on her sticks shifts to something less functional as she smiles over at Park. "I dunno. This shit can hurt." She doesn't elaborate on how, but also doesn't look to be hurting right now, unless that ear-to-ear smile is painful. Which it could be. "I like to make noise. I like to channel all my excess into noise. Everything's just... so much sometimes, ya know? And it's cathartic just..." She does a quick little triad, a rattatat. "And I like when everyone follows along. When we're all going there together." Beat. "And I like your answer. This is a cheese-safe space. Never gotta be ashamed of your cheese in here, k?"

"It will only hurt because you can hear what you want but can't play it...yet" Park smiles sweetly. "It is the hurt of frustration, not rejection. But I have not been in a band so maybe I don't know all the ways it can hurt?" She stops playing with Sparrow, an almost eerily concurrent ceasing of rhythm. "You make great noise. I lke your drumming very much." A little bow again before she is giggling about the cheese safety. "Be careful what you say. I can get pretty cheesy. Oh..." She nods towards her keytar. "I can also play keyboards if that will help your decision."

"Can never have too much cheese," Sparrow assures, confident in that assertion. "And there's not really a decision to make. I mean, you gotta meet Jaime, of course. And hopefully reunite with Runa. But you're good by me." She sets her drumsticks down in perfect parallel, right where they'd been waiting for her before, a habit, then slouches back in her seat as she looks back to Park. "Music can hurt when the crowd's not there with you. When it's all just falling cold. It can hurt when everything ends and it's just you again. But maybe that's more a people thing than a music thing." Her shrug suggests she's not too concerned with the difference, though it's quickly followed by a question: "You've had your heart broken?"

"You haven't seen me dressed as a Pokemon" Park blushes about the cheese levels. But then her expression turns into wide-eyed shock. She stares, mouth dropped open. "Really? You want me in Hellgrind?" A loud squeal as she bounces up and down with excitement, her guitar slapping, painfully, against her body. Not that she cares. Slipping off the guitar at last, she rushes over to Sparrow to give her a hug. "Thank you! Thank you! Thank you! I will never let you down!" She may be hyperventilating a little. "Heart broken? No." A sad shake of her head. "I have never had anyone interested in my heart enough to break it. It's okay, got too much studying to do anyway."

Sparrow's hands go up at the response she gets, at the mention of Helgrind, but any correction which might come is delayed by laughter. Then by surprise at the sudden hug which might be met with an, "Ack!" and an, "Okay!" and an awkward half-hug and chuckle. "Like I said, it's not entirely up to me. But I'll work on arranging a meeting with the others. And it's not Helgrind. I mean, maybe we'll still use the name? But this is new, whatever it is. Something we're all making together. So it needs to be its own thing." If she has any further thoughts on heartbreak, she doesn't share them. Instead, she redirects and wonders, "Do you have any... I dunno. Questions or concerns or whatever?"

"No questions" replies the still over-excited Asian woman, shaking her head quickly. If she lingers, Sparrow may change her mind. "Of course, it is up to the others too" she nods, "I hope they will find me suitable." No more hugging at least. "We will need a new band name? I'll think on it. Nothing involving dentistry...please" she smiles. "I am so excited. Are there any original songs I can practice?"

"I mean," Sparrow starts on the wake of the No Dentistry rule, "now we gotta call ourselves Snaggletooth." She's probably teasing, too much humor in that broad smile she turns toward Park. "Nothing original yet. This is all still just an idea. But you're part of it now. I'll letcha know when I'm able to snag some time with the others. See if we can all get together in the same room." Beat. "Probably this one. Given." She tips her head toward the drums with a, "Ya know," clearly claiming some potentially entirely imagined Drummer's Privilege.

Park frowns a little at 'Snaggletooth' but...it is a good name. Maybe the rule can be relaxed a bit. "Not a very sexy name though" she notes. "The band is a four piece? Vocals, guitar, bass, drums?" She nods at this - what else do you need? "I am so happy to be part of this. Thank you so much. Oh...umm...is Jaime dating any of the others? Are you? It is not because I want to date them, more about knowing the flows of the band. Not that I'm officially in the band yet. And this is a great place to practice and play." Drummers have privileges?

Sparrow shrugs at the count, seemingly unconcerned about the numbers. "Guitarist wanted a bass player. I got him a bass player." She snorts a laugh for the question about dating and gives her head a shake. "Real fun to flirt with, but nothing like that." With a wobble of her head, she adds, "Not yet," to note that she hasn't entirely ruled out the possibility of more serious investment in holding his attention, but it hardly sounds like an active aspiration. "No idea what's going on with Runa's love life these days, but pretty sure I can safely say she's not dating either me or Jaime. Far as I'm concerned though? Date who you want."

"Oh no, no, no, I don't date." Park's pale skin is so red she may explode. "You have nothing to worry about there. I promise. Jaime is all yours. I haven't even met him" she notes with a sense of logic to her words. "I hope he likes me as a bass player though. Runa will be the focus for the fans. She is probably waiting until she can have her pick of everyone in the world. How many bass players get to be the focus? Well...except for Paul McCartney. No, my job in the band is to be, with you, the bedrock foundation of the music. What more could I want?"

Sparrow's eyes go wide as she holds up her hands defensively at the assurance of her claim on Jaime. Her mouth opens to issue protest, but nothing comes out, especially as Park moves on. Nope. Just not gonna worry about that one. "Gummi bears." Out of nowhere. It seems an answer to that rhetorical question at the end. "But I like that you think we're gonna have fans." Her bare feet tap-tap-tap against the floor in evidence of restlessness before she asks, "Why don't you date?" without any shame for her nosiness.

"Okay, yes, I could also want Gummi Bears. Frozen in ice cream...or frozen yogurt. Gosh, I could so eat some frozen yogurt right now. Of course we will have fans, lots of them. Why think anything different? Hard work and creativity will get us there." She sounds like she believes it at least. "I do not date because I am too busy. I am training to be a dentist and practicing to be a rock goddess. There is not much time for anything else. It is okay. No one has been asking" she giggles.

"That is exactly what I was thinking," might be the most serious thing Sparrow has said since meeting Park. And it's about gummi bears in ice cream. Psychic connections are serious business, okay? She straightens up in her seat a little, drawing one hand up, fingers held out flat, horizontally, and drawn downward. "Just make sure your expectations are where they should be." Which looks to be pretty low given where her hand stops. "Dream as big as you want, but don't expect too much. And we won't blame you if you jump ship for someone going farther faster." Getting to her feet, she adds, "If you need some help figuring out how to fit a social life into being an overachiever, lemme know. But, for now, I gotta get moving. It was good playing with you. And it'll be better when we're all together."

"The first time we play together, we will be higher than that" Park grins at where their fame shall reach. "Do not worry. Nothing can keep me down. Other than if my parents find out..." Moving on! "I will not leave you behind. You have given me a chance to live my dreams and I owe you for that. So nice to meet you too." There's another hug before she is quickly packing things up. "Thank you again." A bow before she turns back the way she came in. "This way? And if I ever want a social life, I will let you know."