The sounds of the telephone ringing pierced Reggie's head. Making his forehead thump and his head get filled with pain. "Answer the phone, dammit!" ordered a sleepy voice from across the hall. "YOU answer it, motherf*cker!" ordered Reggie, putting a pillow ontop of his head. "A**hole..." remarked the same voice, "Hello?" After a few pauses, the voice said, "Uh-uh. Dude, I don't have any money! YOU do? Kick ass! Bye!" Taking the pillow off his head, Reggie hollered, "Who was that, James?" "Brian! Do you wanna come with us tonight?" asked James. "Hell, no! I got better things to do!" replied Reggie, replacing the pillow over his head. Resuming his sleep.

Later that afternoon, the band got together to practice some more. They were still in desperate need of a lead singer, but the right one didn't come along yet. They thought of maybe putting a girl in front of the microphone, but the ones they tried out weren't too good enough. The same went for the guys, they just didn't have the voice nor the energy. Most of the people who tried out were smokers. Half-asleep was Brian. His head rolled from side to side on the top of the chair. In rhythm with it were his eyes, which rolled back into his head whenever he motioned to the right. "Did anyone call for the job?" asked Reggie, drinking an Ice Coldie. "Nope. We're never gonna find anyone to be our lead singer! We're still gonna be in Bako for the rest of our lives!" moaned Brian, finally closing his eyes. Five seconds later, he jolted out of his seat and pointed to James and said, "Who's playing tonight?" "Er, um," began James, trying very hard to remember. "Oh, yeah! A band named SexArt, Twisted Murder and The Heroin Addicts. Why?" "If we see the lead singers try out, we could pick one! If they all suck, than we're hopeless!" replied Brian. "Dude, we can't steal a lead singer from a band! Have some goddammed respect, Brian!" said James, popping the cork off of his Coors can. "Ah! You have no nuts, James. Grow a pair and then we'll talk." sighed Brian, sitting back down. Looking angry underneath his messed-up blonde hair. "Where in the hell did that conversation go to?" asked Reggie, raising his eyebrows.

It was nine o'clock when James and Brian headed out to the club. Bakersfield clubs were fixed with wannabe groups just hoping to make it to the big time. Bakersfield was influenced heavily on drugs of every kind. If you were lucky enough, music got you addicted first. Twisted Murder was onstage. All of the members looked bored and tired. Sweat dripped off of their long hair. SexArt was the last band in line. Backstage was Jonathan, Ryan, SexArt's bassist, another guitarist and a drummer were talking to The Heroin Addicts, an all-girl band. "Ladies and gentlemen, give a round of sound for Twisted Murder!" Faint cheers caught Jonathan's attention. Almost time. "Good luck"s were exchanged between the girls and the boys. Twisted Murder quickly drug their amps and guitars offstage. The club owned the drumset. Trying to be gentlemen, SexArt helped The Heroin Addicts set up. "Thanks, dudes." said the lead singer. "No problem." said Jonathan, walking offstage.

"You said that there were going to be GOOD lead singers. All these so far are stupid!" commented James quietly. "There's one more band! If this chick band is stupid, we'll figure that the next band would be stupid!" said Brian, drinking his beer slowly.

It was eleven-fifteen when The Heroin Addicts finished. Twisted Murder and SexArt helped them get their equipment off. The applauds faded away and the torn curtain dropped. "You ready, Jon?" asked Ryan, picking up his guitar. "Yeah." replied Jonathan, nodding. Adrenieline rushed up in his veins now. Exciting him. Finally, the curtain rose. Dull notes escaped Ryan's and the other guitarist's guitars. Percussion was added by the drummer. Bass was pounded in by the bassist. "Let's leave. This band sounds like a teenybopper group." ordered Brian, picking up his jacket. "IIIIINNNNNSSSSSSIIIIIIDDDDDDDEEEEE!" growled Jonathan in the microphone. This caught James's and Brian's attention. Shocking them. They turned around and saw Jonathan jump and fling his body around like he was a rag doll. "Damn." remarked James, eyes widening. Like he was mesmerized, Brian sat back down and said, "I'm staying." "Me, too." agreed James, sitting down in the same chair. The customers stood up and started jumping up and down. Excitement filled their bodies. Hard chords followed Jonathan's cry. Brushing away some strands of his medium, brown hair, Jonathan began his song, "You act so strange. So queer. All I want you to do is to let me inside..." It was an hour after SexArt was completed. The crowd roared for more. Jonathan chuckled and said in the microphone, "Thanks for coming! Good night, everybody!" "Oh...my...God! He's the missing piece of the puzzle! We gotta get him in our band before someone else tries to!" spoke up James, heading for the door that lead backstage. "W-Wait a sec, James!" ordered Brian, rushing beside him. James disappeared behind the door. "Thanks, God." muttered Brian, also disappearing behind the door.

"I'm Not A Faget!" WILL BE CONTINUED...