TAP-tap-tap, TAP-tap-tap, TAP-- TATatatatataTATatatatata TAP!

The unpleasant sounds of a metal spatula and blade of a kitchen knife drumming on a griddle were turned into rhythmical combinations as they echoed into the small corner diner. "The Best Around Waffle House" was a small establishment on the corner of Tim and 88th Street. They may not have had the most space or the best class, but they did have Parker as a chef, whose father had taught him to cook with five-star quality.

TAP-tap-tap, TAP-tap-tap, TAP-- TATatatatataTATatatatata TAP!

In fact, if he had been any less of a cook he would have been fired long ago, for his irritating habit of bringing his musical hobbies to work have caused more than a handful of complaints. Pamela Vick, his boss and the lady who lived in the apartment above the diner, was actually quite fond of the music, but she knew that if she let him get away with it all the time they'd eventually lose all of their business.

Tap, ta-tap, tap, ta-tap, tap, ta-tap, tap --

"Excuse... ex... EXCUSE ME!" Parker nearly lost grip of his makeshift drumsticks when the shrill voice of a hungry, impatient and clearly angry woman interrupted his groove. Parker spun from his place of filling a simple order of pancakes and scrambled eggs to see a middle-aged red-headed woman in the doorway of the swinging kitchen door striking a pose that clearly stated "that 'Employees Only' sign means nothing to me right now" and a glare that added "and neither do you". Asking the question seemed pointless, but it somehow seemed more rude not to inquire anyway.

"I'm sorry, can I help you?" Parker asked, fearing her lash. Being yelled at by someone didn't scare Parker, but getting into an argument with a customer did -- he actually liked this job. Luckily, however, she was just as invested in keeping this interaction civil.... after the initial yelling to get his attention, of course.

Taking a breath and dropping the glare, she cleared her throat and began. "I've had a really, really stressful work day, and I was just looking forward to eating in peace and--

"Of course, ma'am, I'm terribly sorry," Parker said with his signature crooked smile. Almost every person in the Mors family had reliable charisma and a silver tongue. "I'm a drummer in a band, and sometimes I forget to leave my hobbies at the door. I'll try not to disturb you any further. Please, enjoy your meal." As she returned to her seat in satisfaction, Parker was suddenly thankful that he had almost no money on him, because he was tempted to treat her to something extra for the trouble. He couldn't help sometimes getting carried away in his own charm, even if it was entirely fake.

A few hours later, Parker's eyes were excitedly set on Jill -- the name he gave his purple van which he could see out the back window as he was taking off his hairnet and apron. It was just a little passed five and The Harbingers band practice began at six on Thursdays. This barely gave him enough time to get home and get changed before heading to Revelation Studios. Surely Søren would need a ride, as well. Luckily, Parker's drums were still packed in Jill from Tuesday's practice. "G'night, Pam," Parker shouted over his shoulder as he hurried out the door, not even bothering to wait for a response. He was usually more polite to her, but the woman was pushing 60 and fading hearing required three to five repeats of "goodnight," each increasing in volume, and he was just too excited for practice to deal with that.

Even though he knew the band would understand if he were late, patience was one of Parker's worst attributes. This became more fact than opinion as he sped through another red light in front of his apartment building, giving the signal to Soren to buzz the door open (so Parker wouldn't have to dig out his key) and to get his self ready: Three short honks and a long one in a slower (not to mention monotone) version of the beginning of Beethoven's fifth symphony from Jill's horn. Since the rhythm Beethoven used for that intro is also Morse code for the letter "V", Parker and Soren liked to joke and say it stood for "Vroom time." After the honks were made, Parker began step out of the van but paused a moment, then quickly whipped out his phone and began a text to Søren, who he just realized might not be home.

"Vroom time, bitch! You home? Bring me a shirt down with you, please; I smell like a perpetual breakfast." As the message sent, he hoped his best friend would hurry back with his text - and also be home - because it was just turning 5:15 PM as Parker stripped off his pants in the middle of the parking lot and slipped into a pair of shorts from the back of his van.

Dangling his feet over the back of the couch, Søren was laying with his head hanging off the front of the seat. In his hands he firmly held Nete, his beloved bass guitar named for one of the Mousai Apollonides (not that Søren knew alot about Greece mythology, just so happens though that when you essentially live on a college campus for 19 years of your life or so you pick up some weird shit). He had been working until about an hour ago and he was now loosening up before practice in about an hour. His fingers gently sliding along the strings and across the strings as he played a spontaneous song that grew and changed with every passing moment.

Søren sighed happily. He loved these moments him and Nete only, everything but the music they were creating forgotten. ''If only it could be like this all the time'' Søren spoke to himself as he continued to play. His eyes closed softly as he let his mind meld into the melody that he and Nete created. The only moments better than this were when he and the rest of The Harbingers were creating music together there was just something about it that made it feel like destiny.

Three short honks from a horn followed by a fourth longer one broke the serenity of Søren's mind. Throwing his feet over his head he rolled off the couch and onto his feet, and played a final a chord to the improvised song. Slowly removing the bass from his grasp he set her in her hardcover case. He sighed again this time in slight aggravation as his phone went off, it was almost definitely Parker asking him to grab something and to tell Søren it was time to head to practice. Grabbing his phone he unlocked the screen and checked. "Yep it's from Parker," he confirmed out loud, "And, he wants me to get him a shirt."

With Nete safetly settled into her case, he closed it and set it by the door. Søren then proceeded to grab his black and red striped jacket, slip it on, slide his phone into the jacket's pocket and grab a miscellaneous shirt for Parker. Not even bothering to text Parker, he gingerly picked up the case by the door exiting the apartment and locked it behind him.

Stepping out of the apartment building, Søren approached Parker's van. He chucked the shirt at his friend as he went to open the door to Jill, only getting in after placing his guitar securely behind the seat.

Looking at his friend Søren mockingly called out, "Come on Parker for someone so impatient you seem to take forever to get ready. You don't even look like you're ready for band practice. We only have like 45 minutes you know. So, shouldn't we get going BITCH."

Pulling her hair into a loose ponytail, Lucy looked in the mirror. She had not gotten a good nights rest, having fallen asleep at three in the morning due to late night bar tending at Frankenstein's. She was thankful the Sunrise Plaza Motel was so close to Frankenstein's. It was only a mere ten minute walk -- five if she ran. But still, getting off at two-thirty (the bar may close at two, but the cleaning doesn't end. . ) in the morning and starting her day at seven due to insomnia, was showing like a raccoon's mask around her eyes. She hesitated, thinking of the guys, should she apply some sort of eyeliner or make up base to smooth over her insomniac look?

She sighed, why was being a female so difficult? She picked up her ivory make up powder and did a small one-over her entire face. She looked a tad bit paler, but to be honest, walking to the Stabulum Quarters would take some time. She didn't have time for all the vanity. She glared at her reflection in the mirror, spitting out her tongue. She had seen better days. "F'ckin' lighting," she muttered to herself, turning off the light in the bathroom as she exited.

She grabbed her keys and her guitar case, which was covered artfully in random stickers she had collected through the years. She walked to the front door and shoved a pair of dark, dirty, worn Converse shoes onto her feet. Lucy opened the door and shut it behind her. Turning around, she shoved the key into the lock and twisted it, feeling a click vibrate through the doorknob. She drew the key out of the lock and turned the handle, making sure the door was truly locked. With her guitar case in her hand she began walking South, towards the Stabulum Quarters. It was about a thirty minute walk, and there was no way she was going to jog or run with her guitar.

A small frown was set on her face. She knew the code. A solo walking female, and suddenly all car horns are blaring -- at least, an exaggeration in Lucy's mind. She hated being a female, sometime, and today, was one of them. How many horny drunkards did she manage last night? Maybe that is why she was having insomnia. She usually didn't mind the attention, but every once in a while. . The horrors of her actual waking-life just washed up on shore of her conscience and slowly started driving nails into her sanity.

It was days like these she wished she could just plug into the system of illegal, recreational drugs and watch herself slip farther away from humanity, but. . She stopped walking, carefully put her guitar case down, and dug out a cigarette of from her back pocket. She lit it, taking a long inhale. Her favorite part of cigarette smoking was the Menthol. It numbed her nostrils and the back of her throat to just the right degree. Or at least, to a manageable degree. Lucy picked up her guitar case; the cigarette hung from her lips as she continued walking.

As she smoked her cigarette, her mind calmed and chilled. At least, band practice was today. She had been feeling isolated since she had not had contact with the guys for several days. Band practice was some sort of relief for her. All her solo guitar playing in her motel room would be put to actual use. . And music: music was her religion, her medicine, and her remedy for life. Music was why she liked the the guys -- they felt the same way. It was something that bonded the band together, gave them a familiar chemistry. Her mind wandered from chemistry, to her lack of education, spiraling her mind back into a slight depression, as she thought of her not-so-great job, but a long inhale in her cigarette brought her mind out of the darkness, if only for another temporary minute or two.

She f'ckin' hoped they made it big one day. Frankenstein's was killing her. She felt as if she was turning into a monster over the course of time that she had been working at the bar and grill. She felt that sparkle in her eye turning more into a red dagger that kept her eyes bloodshot. She forgot to put eye drops in her eyes. Suddenly, she was hoping someone would honk at her -- make her feel pretty.

She truly wished she could be one of the guys, just anything to keep from remembering how many shitty decisions she had made. Here's to The Harbingers, she thought to herself, feeling a small smirk draw itself over her lips and around the dangling cigarette.

Another wadded ball of paper bounced off the rim of a trashcan already overflowing with soda cans, Mountain Dew in particular, as well as a small mountain of paper wads that had already found their way to said trashcan. The person responsible for the overflowing trashcan leaned back in a wooden chair that was in severe mismatch to the desk where a new piece of paper lay, having not yet been victimized by the pen in the person's teeth. Giving a sigh the person dropped his chair back onto all fours and then let the pen fall to lay on the page. Matt, as the person preferred to be called, stood up and stretched his arms above his head to work an ache that had been building between his shoulders.

As he stretched he turned his gaze to the red digital display of the clock next to his bed which shared the room with the mismatched chair and desk. Seeing the clock display the time as 5:03 Matt decided to give up on finishing the song he had been working on since he had arrived back to his loft after work that morning, which had been sometime after noon and before one. With band practice quickly approaching Matt decided to grab a quick shower before heading to the studio space that he and the band rented for rehearsals.

Standing in the shower he washed quickly and as did he found himself once more humming the insistent tune that had been haunting his dreams for weeks. The same tune he had previously been trying to capture on the page. Silently he gave thanks to the upcoming practice hoping that it would distract him from the melody. After toweling, again checking the clock which now read 5:17 he pulled on a pair of jeans, slipped on a pair of canvas shoes and slid on a shirt bearing the visage of a skull with a crown and a lyrical line "Crowned by our lies, we live our lives hidden in disguise", an heirloom from his days in the False Kings.

After getting dressed Matt moved fluidly through the flat grabbing his jacket of the back of a chair, his phone from the charger and his keys and wallet from the table by the door. He only paused to lock the door behind himself. Walking the few stairs from his door to the sidewalk, where his moped was locked up, he pulled his phone and checked the time as he unlocked the moped and got on. 5:23 the phone read, more than enough time to make the 20 minute trip across town even supposing traffic and red lights he could easily be at the studio before 6. Pulling out from his flat and throttling the moped he cursed under his breath as he once as again realized he was humming the dream melody.

Bouncing Roxys and two bars of Xanax in his hand, Parker was contemplating what way to leave his stress behind when Søren surprised him from behind and tossed his requested shirt at Parker. He managed to catch it with his empty hand before it wrapped around his face, then smirked at his best friend's greeting. Parker slipped the substances back into his pocket, not wanting to miss out on any time with the Harbingers by going on a drug-induced autopilot. They all deserved better than that, anyway.

"If I arrived here ready, what would you do? You barely pay any rent so I have to make use of you somehow," Parker replied with a chuckle as he stripped off his work shirt and replaced it with the clean one. They both knew very well that Parker didn't mind paying the majority, because he hated living alone and loved living with his best friend... most of the time. He tossed the dirty shirt in the back as he slid into the driver seat, muttering to himself about no longer smelling of eggs and syrup as he cocked an eye toward Søren, chuckling lightly as he watched how tenderly he secured his bass guitar.

Sliding his phone out from his pocket, Parker read the time of 5:23PM and wondered if he should text his band-mates to ask if they'd make it. Today's practice is paramount to their recording of their EP the upcoming weekend, and although he trusted them to be there on time, he knew Matt's moped wasn't very reliable and Lucy had to get there on foot.

"Hey, you think we should ask Lucy if she needs a ride? I'm just worrying a bit more today 'cause today's practice is kinda important." Parker's voice and speech was always more relaxed when he was talking to Søren alone, evident by his unusually excessive use of shortened words, but when he asked his best friend about Lucy his voice seemed to tighten up again. Maybe he was just looking for an excuse to see more of Lucy after all, though he liked to think he had control of himself in that field... though surely that's what Søren was thinking. The regret of asking the question was immediately apparent on Parker's face as he waited for a response.

Hearing Parker jokingly question what else Søren would be useful for if not shirt fetching, he finished positioning Nete in the perfect spot. Hesitating for a moment so he could stare off into the distance with a soul searching gaze Søren contemplated in faux pas dramatics. Eventually turning he glanced at Parker before reporting the deep answer he had managed to ascertain, "The answer to that question my dear friend is this... My amazing gorgeous-ness, of course." As he finished Søren couldn't help but let his face split into a gigantic smile. To others his answer may have been only worth a mild chuckle, not an ear to ear grin, but then again smiling was always something of second nature to Søren. He almost always had a perpetual grin plastered on his face.

As they got into Jill's front seats Søren had already begun to let his mind drift. Despite just finishing playing on his bass moments ago he could already feel the craving to play build up in him. He had accepted long ago he had an addiction, sure only psychological, but hey the mind is pretty powerful. In fact his addiction consumed his life to such an extent that when it came down to it he wasn't very reliable unless it involved music. However since he was constricted to the confines of Parker's precious van for the time being he would have to accept it. Therefore, witty banter time was a go.

As Søren sat struggling to come up with something remotely clever to say he noticed Parker pull out his phone to check the time. Yet, before he could say something about how if Parker was worried about time they would probably need to get moving unless if at some point during his shift at Pam's place he had figured how to warp both space and time, Parker inquired if he thought they should pick up Lucy.

Immediately Søren comprehended his friends regret of asking as soon as he saw his face. It was clear Parker expected him to begin taunting him on the subject. This of course made sense, there was that one time that Søren had compiled a list of his best friend's kryptonites and at the top of that list he had placed Lucy, after all she always seemed to essentially paralyze him and break his cool. Suffice to Søren found the list hilarious, he still wasn't completely sure if Parker had though... Oh well. With a small smile Søren replied in a gentle tone, "I don't see why not. After all we have that EP to work on so practice is pretty important. You start driving and I'll ask her." As he finished speaking he pulled out his phone to began his text before tacking on one last thing, "If she already left we may have to grab her on her way there. I assume you know the route she normally takes to the studio, after all you are her resident stalker." With that Søren shot Lucy a quick text, Hey Parker wants to know if you'd like a ride. So would you?

Taking a drag from her cigarette, Lucy felt a vibration in her front pocket. It was her cell phone receiving a text message, she pulled her cheap three year-old Pantech cellular device from her ripped jeans pocket. She slid it open to read, "Hey Parker wants to know if you'd like a ride. So would you?" She stopped walking, staring at the P on the screen. A slight hesitation rested on Lucy's shoulders. Parker wants to know... Like he seriously cared about her. . . Of course he did, they were in the same band together. She shook the feeling, and quickly, with her thumb, she tapped out a response, "22nd and Main." She pressed send and watched her phone load and send the message, as slowly as possible. Despite the used and worn conditions of her cellphone, Lucy really liked it. It was quaint, did what she wanted, and didn't think faster than her. It was a good puppy -- errr. . cell phone she would remind herself. Somehow, the cellphone was making its way into her heart, but not quite as deep rooted as her guitar, which she never named. It was a silent name if it did have one. They had a serious relationship -- a jealous one, almost. Lucy preferred no one call her guitar, only she was allowed to soothe its beauty verbally, and that was generally with her singing vocals.

"Looks like we're gettin' a ride," she mumbled to the air; the cigarette dangling from her dried pastel, pink lips. She sat down, setting her guitar case next to her. She wasn't about to stand and wait. Standing and waiting reminded her too much of her Churchy roots -- something, she preferred not to contemplate. It generally reminded her how low she was capable of falling. . and by falling, she meant in love with guys like Tim. But he was dead to her, now. Or might as well be. She hadn't heard shit from or about him since the hospitable, not even rumors, and she knew, sometimes, those drugs did give him the shits, she remembered, silently cursing herself. With all the cursing she had been doing to herself as of lately, she pondered whether she should start considering herself a witch. The cheesy joke came and went just like the use of her cigarette, which she took out of her mouth and tossed on the sidewalk by her foot. She lifted her foot and smothered it into the cement. 22nd and Main. . .

Pulling into the parking lot outside the studio where the Harbingers practiced Matt took a glance at the other vehicles that sat in the lot. Quickly noticing that Parker's van was nowhere to be seen. Not that it was surprising, Matt had left a little earlier than was normal and he had purposely cut through a parking lot to avoid the one red light he had almost hit. Choosing a parking spot near a street light Matt killed the engine and dismounted his ride. Using the street light he tied his moped up so that no one would steal it.

Walking towards the doors of the studio Matt pulled his phone from his jacket pocket, 5:42, he had made it here faster than he had thought. Heading inside he walked down a hallway and into a room that was littered with cables, amps, mics and stands, both for instruments and for mics. Matt spent the next few minutes untangling cables, get amps set up, both to the right volume and settings as well as getting stands set up for everyone. The whole time he left a central space clear, for Parker's drums. By the time he had finished his phone showed the time as 5:48. Proud of the prep work he had done, and with a distinct lack of any dream music making itself known, he walked headed back to the parking lot to see if the others had arrived, and to see if they needed any help with a carting the drums in.

The amount of time it took Lucy to respond was minimal. In the time it took Søren's message to navigate its way from his phone to that of Lucy's, and her to respond and her message do the same was an incredibly small time window. Yet, somehow between the sending of his message and waiting for a response Søren had managed to forget he had sent the text, or he wasn't expecting a reply so soon, both of which would be easily believable in regards to the young bassist. Lucy's reply was marked with a startled jump of Søren as the phone buzzed on his lap.

Despite the shock Søren managed to snag his phone before it could collide with the floorboard of the van, because of his reaction. Reading Lucy's answer to his text Søren looked towards his best friend. "Well my good friend it would seem we are indeed needed to assist our fellow band mate," taking a breath Søren continued on, but now in a deep dramatic voice, "Set course for 22nd and main! We must hurry forth!"

With the location of their journey's endpoint now known, he could allow Parker to do the rest. Now that, that was done Søren could reply to Lucy. Unlocking his phone he sent another message to their pink-haired guitarist. We have now set off on our quest, we know not how long it may take, nor what we may encounter. Yet, there is one thing that we do know, at the end of this journey, it is fabled that we shall find a guitarist of skill, known to most for her vibrant hair. That text done Søren started another, this one to their vocalist. Should get there soon, man. We just need to grab Lucy and we will be on our way. Slipping his phone into his pocket he turned to face out the window as he began to hum a new bass part in his head.

Although normally he'd love to stare at someone for shouting such odd things in an enclosed space inhabited by just the pair, but he knew better than to think it would matter by now. Shaking his head with a slight chuckle, Parker threw his beloved van in reverse and headed toward their guitarist, who was only a short distance away. "I hold out hope that one day you'll make a request like a normal person," he teased his friend, although he had no such hope. What fun would he be otherwise?

A few minutes later, Jill was slowly rolling down 22nd street searching for another passenger to add. There weren't many people on the streets, but there were even fewer with flamboyantly pink hair and a guitar case so Lucy was a rather easy target to locate. His breathing hitched for a single, short, unnoticeable moment when she came into view. With Søren here, it would be easier for them to get along without any unnecessary pauses, which Parker was thankful for. He already knew how many of those could occur in the short drive it took to get to Revelation Studios.

Pulling over on the opposite side of the street, Jill's horn released an obnoxiously loud beep that echoed throughout the street. With the window already down, Parker took the opportunity to shout "FREE CANDY!" as loud as possible in Lucy's direction to get her attention. Pulling his head back inside, he looked around the back of the van and, to his dismay, realized he that the only backseat he hadn't taken out to fit the drum set in was, in fact, still covered by pieces of his drum set. With a sigh and some mumbling about how he should think things through better, he stepped out and began rearranging the set in the back and actually using the straps he'd installed this time, leaving the seat open with enough space for Lucy's guitar. When he was finished, he leaned against the open sliding door, then looked inside toward Søren with a grimace. "Why didn't I just make you do that?"

Part vibration rumbled in Lucy's pant pocket, again. She dug out her cellphone and clipped it open. Another text from Søren. Lucy smiled at Søren's text. She bared a few teeth, smiling down at his lengthy words. Suave.

---

She didn't have to wait as long as expected. Jill came tumbling around the corner with Parker, good ol' sexy Parker, shouting, "FREE CANDY!" breaking the awkwardness Lucy was starting to feel just at the sight of Jill. Good ol' sexy Parker. . she shook her head, smiling, letting out a soughed laugh.

"Yoo-hoo! Mister Candy Man!" Lucy continued the joke, waving her hand in the air as dainty as possible, fluttering her fingers in the air. She could not help but let out another laugh. She forgot all about her bad looks and tiresome job. Ah, the guys. She stood up, running her hand that had been dangling so frivolously in the air, through her pink hair, wiping any strands from her tired face.

"Fuck, you guys got here fast," she sheepishly admitted aloud to them as she waited for Parker and his muscular body to rearrange a few things in Jill before she slid into the van. A smile was still set on her lips, a slight blush in her face.

"It's not like we live far," Parker replied, switching back to his seat behind the wheel. He was rotating his wrist while holding it with the other hand as he spoke, realizing dropping a bass drum on your hand hurts a little more when you're sober. "Besides, we were already packed up when Søren texted." The van roared back to life with a turn of the key as Parker shifted Jill out of her location and toward their waiting band-mate.

---

As they approached Revelation, Parker wanted to ask Søren if he planned on helping pack in the drums, but dropped his head before bothering to ask. He couldn't wait until they had secondary bass guitars, mini-amps, and other equipment for Søren's performances so Parker could at least enjoy watching him do a little more than haul around his stringed girlfriend.

A few short honks from Jill signaled their arrival to the vocalist, who seemed to have just stepped out of the doors. With a confused look at Matt through the windshield, or rather the presence of him, Parker quickly checked his phone to make sure they weren't late, but found instead that Matt was simply early. Getting out, he kept his eyebrow cocked as he stared at their vocalist. "Aren't you usually here late? D'you sleep here or something?" Parker teased him with a crooked grin. He was very fond of Matt and always found it it a pity that they didn't spend much time together. I guess that was apparent after Parker accidentally hunted his talent for song long, though.

After a more formal greeting, the drummer opened the back of the van to get the drum set. It occurred to him a moment later that he was probably also doing so for Lucy's sake, but he tried his best to ignore that as he hauled one of his basses over shoulder and stared at Søren. "Anytime, you know," he joked in futility as he walked toward the studio. With his wrist still aching, he did his best to clumsily move a dose of Roxys he had in his left pocket to his mouth with his back to the group. He had a good thirty minutes of sobriety before he'd be risking any mood changes, and it took more than a couple of these to damage his faculties anyway. He convinced himself it was better he avoided all chances of withdrawal during such an important practice, but he wasn't so sure he even believed that as he entered the studio room that Matt had apparently already done most of the preparations for. With a cheerful grin, Parker backtracked toward the van to continue helping.

Matt reached the front doors and leaned against the glass waiting for the rest of the band to arrive. Pulling his phone out to check the time he noticed a message from Søren that he had to have missed earlier. Reading the short message Matt had a second where he wondered if it had actually been sent by the eccentric bassist, as the message was much more normal than one would expect from Søren. Dismissing the thought Søren may have been replaced with an imposter Matt gave thanks that the message had actually been intelligible rather than one of Søren's overly dramatic monologues that made deciphering basic information more effort than it was normally worth.

With the knowledge of the bands imminent arrival gleaned from Soren's text Matt decided to wait outside. As fate would have it just as Matt stepped outside the van pulled into the parking lot, it's presence was quickly followed by three sharp horn blasts. These were presumably to draw Matt's attention, not that he could have easily missed the purple van if he had tried.

As the band piled out of the van Parker joshingly inquired as to Matt's presence at the studio prior to rehearsal starting. Giving the drummer a grin of his own Matt responded in kind "C'mon man, you know I'm never late, giving a chuckle mid-sentence he continued "the rest of you are just early most days." Following Parker around to the back of the van Matt grabbed a couple cymbals and let Parker in on the real reason as to his notably early arrival "Honestly though you'd of been early too had you spent all day not writing the same song, had to get out of the apartment before that song drove me crazy."

As Søren had expected it took very little time for Parker to manipulate the large van known as Jill through the streets and traffic to Lucy's position upon 22nd and Main. Though mind you this time passage still allowed for quite a bit of thinking for The Harbingers' bassist. In fact in fact the synapses in his brain fired at rapid speeds, debating a topic of vast importance. What, you may ask, was this important topic? Obviously the thoughts rushing through his head were of ways to make things more awkward for both Parker and Lucy. For you see Søren's favorite hobbies consist mainly of the following of which only the first has a specific ranking, hence its first-ness, and the rest often oscillated positions. Music in general (namely playing the ever beautiful Nete) was locked in position one, then there is hanging out with The Harbingers, making puns, making things awkward between Parker and Lucy, making puns involving Parker and Lucy, and finally watching the oh so amusingly tense interactions between, yep that's right, Parker and Lucy. Therefore, one could easily understand Søren's vast amount of thought being put in to his plans, as he and Parker pulled up near Lucy.

As they pulled up, a sense of pride filled Søren from head to toe. Parker had shouted at the, top of his lungs free candy, while driving what one could call a rather conspicuous van. This of course the cause of Søren's sudden feelings of pride, he knew he had good taste in friends. Then to top it off he had the treat of watching Lucy reply. Reply in fact in such a way that he was certain if it had lacked the added touch of the dainty finger flutter would have been much less amusing.

Then as Parker proceeded to make room in the van Søren of course continued to sit back in his seat. He gladly let Parker go about his reorganization, Søren himself was too busy observing Lucy and Parker, to actually assist.

As his pink-haired acquaintance commented unto both him and his man-servant, on their speedy arrival Søren noticed Lucy's face began to take on attributes of her vivid hair, as she stared at Parker and his efforts at rearranging the kit in the back. Of course at this point his brain began to cook up something to say, only to be interrupted by Parker questioning him on his (Parker's) own actions. Grinning in what can only be described as a predatory like manner he responded, "Oh, but then how would have you been able to display your strength and caring to Lucy here?" Pausing for a moment Søren moved his gaze towards Lucy. "And of course who would Luce here have stared at as they strained to move all that heavy percussion equipment? Certainly not me, right?"

His moment of instigation done Søren, waited for the two to get in and for them to be on their way. After all now that he had something to catch one another's attention, this ride would definitely be awkward enough. Though for a moment Søren did debate the idea that he may be a horrible friend, only for a moment though as both Parker and Lucy clambered into Jill. Only giving it one last thought, that Parker had probably been hoping that his presence would make things easier. That is before he banished it from his mind, after all Parker knew better than to expect that.

After all of that it was a rather uneventful ride to Revelations, well other than the delicious tension filled air. As they pulled up Søren was perplexed, but pleased to see Matt there already. Jumping from his seat he collided with the ground, which was immediately followed by an about face as he turned to fetch his precious precious bass from the bowels of the van (aka from behind his seat). With his guitar now in possession Søren himself was ready, now if only Parker's kit could magically teleport from the van to the studio room. Alas, it could not and since this week's studio time was important Søren was going to unhappily assist. However before which he felt the need to clarify. Turning to face Parker and Matt he spoke the words none of them expected to hear, "I," he sighed, "I shall help with the kit today, but only today." Søren's face by this point had managed to warp into one of regret, sickness, and rage; he hated helping get the drum kit out. Hell the end of the world seemed better.

Cursing Søren in her mind, Lucy could feel her cheeks burning redder at his comment. A frown was drawing itself over her slightly chapped lips, which made them slightly redder than normal. She needed to watch herself. She hated that her crush on Parker was so obvious to Søren, and that he had to omnipotently point it out whenever he got the chance. She turned and looked out the window, at the passing streets, trying to keep the bitch in her calm. But really, she wanted to punch the "fool" in his face, not that her strength would do much damage. .

What was she thinking? Punching Søren in the face? She looked back at the review mirror, seeing Søren's eyes concentrating in driving. Maybe he was jealous. But of what? There was nothing to be jealous of. Obviously, the thought of Parker and Lucy being an item was far from possible. Besides, they were band mates. She learned her lesson a while ago about that. . Or something like that, anyhow.

She bit her lip, trying not to say anything negative towards Søren. It was a struggle. Every time. There was nothing she could say or do that would not make the situation more awkward. She needed to learn to tune Søren out in times like these. Was that even possible?

Lucy sighed as Jill pulled into the parking lot. Matt was early. Overachiever. She picked up her guitar, feeling the the smooth case with her hands. The feeling calmed her nerves. She was excited for band practice, even with Søren's comments, playing with the guys was worth it. Really, it was and is. Stepping out of Jill, Lucy tried to ignore Parker, his back was turned, anyways, which made the situation ever so much easier. She let out another deep breath, breathing in the outside air, as if she had been cooped up in Jill for hours, which felt like it after Søren's comment. The tension. Was she the only one who felt the tension?

Parker seemed. . Laid back.

Søren offered to help Parker unload his drum set, which was a surprisingly nice gesture. Lucy did not feel like analyzing it. Whatever the reason. . She backed away from the van, "Hey, Matt." She managed to say, lifting her voice into the air, a little shaky from the "drama" that happened in Jill. God, Søren got under her skin so quickly. She privately thanked some god Søren was being nice because really. . . Lying in bed next to Parker, dosed in some illegal candy just. . . She shook her mind from the matter -- Matt, oh yeah, she was talking to Matt.

Void

Void

For the first time in as long as he could remember (in an incident that didn't involve their beautiful guitarist), Parker was basically speechless, before he had even made his first trip into the studio, compliments of his best friends' assistance. Around the time of their first or second practice, Søren had made it clear that his priority was his bass and his bass alone. Parker, and presumably the others, wanted to object and call him out on his bullshit, but Parker knew his best friend would come through if absolutely necessary. Besides, it was just a drum set, and it was Søren's job to deal with most things advertisement, spreading their name, and most things album related so as long as he was taking on certain jobs of the bands "producer", moving a drum set indoors was very trivial.

"Still having trouble with it, huh?" Parker questioned Matt, turning to him with genuine concern. Their vocalist was a very talented one - hence why Parker sought him out for the Harbingers so relentlessly - so when Matt had confided in the drummer about this particularly difficult tune that was haunting him, it was certainly a little more than odd. "Don't worry," he added with his signature crooked smile. "You'll get it -- you're a Harbinger, after all." He very much believed those words, and was certain the others would as well.

---

After the familiar studio was now one drum kit and four band members fuller, the band had very little setup left to do thanks to their vocalist. With that, practice began, and as Parker's drumsticks rhythmically collided to signal the beginning of their first song, the familiar feelings pulsed through the room... the feeling of purpose. The feeling of band becoming a single entity, fueled by rhythm and melody. The feeling of the rest of the rest of the world becoming inferior... irrelevant. This was the feeling of being unstoppable, and the Harbingers embodied this feeling well. The absolute sensation, while indescribable, was defined by the pulse of the drums, synchronizing the thoughts and heartbeats of the band, allowing them to feel each strike and kick with every fiber of their beings as they moved in rhythm with the drummer's thoughts translated into beats. This was the only time, as he was behind the others, that he allowed his eyes to linger upon Lucy, rarely running his eyes anywhere but over her being. Her technique melodically washed over the room, masterfully using the fretboard to create things of incredible beauty; to be expected from such a woman. These creations following the pulse were all held together by the warmth that emanated from the almost surreal tones produced by Nete, which became more of an extension of Søren at times like these, as if there were nickel wound nerves of his running from base to headstock rather than strings. And yet, even with such a flawlessly woven symphony behind him, Matt's voice was far from overshadowed, controlling the collective melody with the powerful weapon that resonated from deep within his chest. This was the sound of euphoria itself, and it was what Parker imagined perfection would be perceived as.

---

"So, you guys have any plans for the rest of the night?" Parker asked behind him through Jill's open rear double-doors, his back to the band as he finished strapping in the individual pieces of his kit. They all knew Parker hated being alone, so it was obvious that he was asking because parting with the group for the evening was at the bottom of the drummer's 'to-do' list. "Actually, I don't even know what time it is. Whose got it?" He added, clearly referring to the time. The manager of Revelation Studios had become a friend overtime - even going as far as letting them keep their equipment trailer they brought to gigs behind the studio - and never bothered to enforce the end-time of the Harbingers' rehearsals, so a not-so-sober Parker easily lost track of time, not to mention depth perception, evident by the many times the click of plastic could be heard, per strap, before the loudest and final one that indicated the strap's locked position as he spoke. After finally finishing, Parker slid into a sitting position with a sigh, legs hanging out of the van as he looked between the members, expertly weaving a drumstick between his fingers, expecting someone to take a seat next to him (if no one already had) as he waited for answers to his questions.

Having already grabbed part of the drum set before Søren made his earth shattering offer to help Matt had to actually look down to make sure he hadn't dropped anything from shock, other than the proverbial brick he had just shat. Hearing Lucy's greeting Matt turned to her and gave a friendly nod "How was Frankenstein's last night Luce?" Tucking the pieces of the drum set under one arm Matt grabbed a box filled with sticks, picks and just general extra stuff before replying to Parker. "It isn't a question of if I get it, it's more a question of rather it's on paper or padded wallS." It was a joke but at the same time was almost genuinely concerned for his sanity, after all the song had been stuck in his mind for the better of the last few weeks.

---

After everything was carted in and the drums assembled rehearsal began. Matt lived for these moments. The Harbingers were all insanely talented individuals and despite the uniqueness of each individual the sound was naturally it's own. No one had to give ground to allow someone else to shine through, a feat that despite the many bands Matt had been in was altogether unique to The Harbingers. The only band he had ever been who could even match the sound of The Harbingers was Forever Unbound. And unlike The Harbingers, Forever Unbound's sound was a result of careful layering and production whereas The Harbinger's was a natural, raw sound that could never be manufactured. These were the thoughts that always ran through Matt's head as he heard and felt the band's music around. The same music that made him capable of putting himself into each lyric of the songs that Søren, Parker, Luce and himself had written individually and together.

---

Leaning against one of the open doors of the now loaded van Matt sipped on a bottle of water as the band unwound after what had ended up being an incredibly productive practice. Setting the bottle on the tailgate Matt pulled his phone out of his pocket to check time, which showed 10:43pm, nearly an hour past their scheduled practice end time, not that Terry would care. "About a quarter till eleven," Matt said voicing the time, he added "I'm down to hang out but I'm voting food, practice always leaves me starving. Luce? Søren? Whatcha think?"

"It was fine" Lucy made a half smile sarcastically. It was amazing at how horrible people's manners became after they drank, not that she was anything promising looking when wasted. . Lucy held on to her guitar case, putting one hand on her hip, leaning most of her weight on her right leg. She watched as Parker and Søren unloaded the drums. "I'll be inside the studio. ." she spoke, glancing at Matt. She took her hand from her hip and started walking inside the studio.

---

Practice went as amazing as usual. Lucy could feel the vibrations of Parker's drumming, thumping through her veins. The adrenaline rush of playing so closely with the guys, who to be honest were more than just guys, they were band mates -- which meant more than just friends. She wouldn't ruin the band for romantic love. . No, that would be plain stupid. Everyone knew it. .

Her fingers artistically touched the strings of her guitar, feeling the raw callouses on her fingers cutting from how hard she was playing. The feeling was amazing. The colors of music coursing through the air and tones of raw depth and magic were screaming through the studio. Lucy was in-love, in-love with The Harbingers. All the days' waste at Frankenstein's was suddenly worth the rush. For these moments, Lucy could finally think straight. . .

---

Lucy thanked God, for once, that she didn't have work on the nights that they had band practice. This of course, hurt some of her monetary means, but she was generally a frugal lady. In example, she didn't put blush on before leaving. . Yeah, she saved money where she could.

"I haven't eaten all day," Lucy grimly noted out loud, "Let's get food." She put her hand on her stomach making a sheepish smile. She was already thin and honestly, did not need to get thinner. Her figure was thin enough to pass for an anorexic or heroin addict. It could be worrysome. . But it was not, at least to Lucy.

She climbed into Jill. For a brief moment, Parker and her were alone in the car. She tried not to feel gushy. It sickened her over how she could keep falling for the same guy over and over in iridescent situations. He already made his statement and reasoning clear, and the band needed them at their best. . The Harbingers deserved their best, and nothing less.

Lucy leaned her head back, feeling the van chair rub against her pink hair. A small sigh escaped from her lips. She didn't care whether Parker saw or not. Practice had been amazing, but suddenly, a mood swing was telling her to feel uncomfortable. Parker seemed off. . off in his own world. Her sigh finished escaping. She stared at the ceiling of the van waiting for everyone to reply.