Second chapter of the (as I intend to make it) incredibly long series, "Making Dreams Come True". Of late, writing has become more of an enjoyable process than a chore.

Oh, and I got published.

I repeat, I got published!!!! Those interested can visit teenwriting.about.com.... scroll down a little and read Crevice by getimmersed. You can comment here.

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Sunday, 4 p.m

Rohit was lying on his bed listening to “Homecoming” by Green Day. He picked up his Fender Stratocaster, a very expensive guitar which his uncle living in Norway had gifted him when he was fourteen.

He played along to the song, without using the amplifier. He could pick up the chords of most songs after listening to it twice or thrice..

The phone rang. The caller ID displayed Jai’s number.

“Yeah?” Rohit said as he picked up the phone.
“Got a girl here, who says she can sing.”
“I’ll be there.”

Rohit ran downstairs, locked the door, jumped on his bike and pedaled to Jai’s house.

He knocked, and heard Jai’s voice. “It’s open!”

Rohit opened the door and went in. A girl who looked around fifteen was sitting on the couch opposite Jai.

“Hey.” Rohit greeted her.
“Hi.” She smiled. “I’m Malini.”
“I’m –“
“I know, Jai told me… Rohit, right?”
“Yeah.” He grinned.

Rohit sat down on the couch and rubbed his hands together. “Okay, lets get down to business…. Start singing!”

Malini smiled again and launched into a song, “Teenage Dirtbag” by Wheatus :

“Cause I’m just a teenage dirtbag, baby
Yeah, I’m just a teenage dirtbag, baby
Listen to Iron Maiden, baby, with me…”

“Nice…”, Jai commented.

“Yup… I agree. Can you sing anything else?”

She nodded and started singing “My Immortal” by Evanescence. She sang a few lines and Rohit stopped her. “You’re in!”

“I second that”, Jai said.

Malini grinned and gave both of them high fives.

“You can help us when more guys come for auditions.”

“Cool.”

The doorbell rang. Rohit went to answer it. It was a tall, lanky guy carrying a guitar.

“Are you Jai?” he asked, in a husky voice.

“No, I’m Rohit, his friend… you’re here to try out for the band, right?”

“Yeah.”

“Come in.” Rohit led him to the couch.

“Hey, I’m Sameer. Call me Sam.” He shook hands with everyone. “So, are you all members of the band?” he asked.

“Yeah, I play the guitar, Jai here plays the keyboard, and this is our brand new singer, Malini.” Rohit introduced everyone.

“Cool… but if you already have a guitarist, I guess you won’t be willing to check me out,” he gestured to his guitar. “Or will you?” he asked hopefully.

Jai laughed. “Yeah, we will. Go ahead.”

Sam took his guitar out of the case. It was an acoustic Hobner, and looked well-used. Sam strummed a few chords, and started singing “3 a.m.” by Matchbox Twenty. He sang for about a minute, stopped and played a solo.

“Composed it myself,” he smiled.

“Fantastic, dude.” Rohit said in awe.
“Man, you could replace Rob Thomas.” Jai said.
“Oh, yeah”, was all Malini had to say.

“So, I think I’m in?” Sam smiled.

“Oh, yeah.” Malini repeated.

***

The Principal was doing his rounds on Monday morning, when he suddenly noticed a couple of notices on the bulletin board. The hatred he harbored for music boiled up inside him, as he ripped the notices of the board, and threw them into the dustbin.

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Comments, comments. This ain't going on till someone makes some serious comments. I will write, but I won't put it here.