Chapter 2
Hanschen and Nickolas, his older brother who was visiting home from college for autumn break, sat in the living room together in an intense game of Mario Kart. Just as Hanschen beat his brother again, there was a knock at the door.
”I’ll get it!” Hanschen sprang to his feet and dashed to the door, reaching it before Nickolas. He smirked at him, flipped him off, and then opened the door.
“Oh,” he said, his face falling once he saw who it was,” it’s you.”
Hanschen liked the way that Melchior’s face twisted in annoyance. If there was one thing he really loved in this world, it was seeing Melchior annoyed.
“Hanschen, I need you to join my— our band.” He said, quickly trying to reset his face to become neutral.
That took Hanschen by surprise. He blankly stared at him for a moment before raising an eyebrow.
“And why should I?”
“Because we need a drummer.”
“What’s in it for me?”
“You get to meet new people and play for a crowd?”
Hm. A crowd sounded nice. But he really couldn’t care less about meeting new people.
“I’d rather not meet your greasy friends.” He muttered, pausing for a moment. “Will you pay me?” He crossed his arms against his chest and leaned on the doorframe.
“What— no! Why would I pay you?”
“No deal, then.”
Once again, Melchior was annoyed. This was a lovely interaction in Hanschen’s opinion.
“Fine. I’ll give you £5.” Melchior sighed, giving up.
“Hell yeah, deal.” Hanschen smiled, holding his hand out for the money. Melchior gave him £2.
“I’ll give you the rest later. Practice is at my house in an hour, don’t be late.”
And with that, Melchior walked off.
—
Hanschen trudged along towards Melchior’s house, regretting this deal more and more with each step that he took. Joining a band for £5? He was so stupid. He could be all nice and warm right now, sitting in his living room with his brother… and instead he was 20 steps away from Melchior Gabor’s house, going to see a bunch of random kids and play the drums for them.
The feeling of regret didn’t go away when he knocked on the door. It also didn’t go away when the door opened to reveal a guy he had never seen before in his life, who was maybe an inch or two taller than him, with curly brown hair and black circular glasses. Of course this band was made up of a bunch of nerds. At least this guy wasn't greasy… mostly.
“Hello, I’m Hanschen Rilow. Melchior said that you guys were meeting now?” Hanschen said, holding his hand out to shake. The other guy glanced down at his hand and hesitantly shook it.
“Uh, yeah, come in.”
He led him down to the garage and he was immediately greeted with an insane amount of humidity and a surprisingly good smell? It smelled.. baked? Odd.
“Finally. Guys, this is Hanschen, the replacement drummer. Hanschen, this is Otto,” he pointed to a guy who had a shirt with a boat on it, black shorts, and wavy black hair. “Georg,” he pointed to the guy who let him in. His outfit was unimpressive. Dark blue shorts and a t-shirt with the Nirvana logo on it… not a good look. “and Ernst.” he now pointed to the last guy in the room. He had dark brown hair, gorgeous brown eyes, and a good sense of style. Not to mention the fact that he was the bassist. He seemed like he would be nice.
“Hi.” Hanschen said after finally taking his eyes off of Ernst. He had to admit, that guy was good looking.
Otto nodded towards him in hello, Ernst hesitantly waved, and Georg did nothing. What a friendly crowd.
“Can I have my money now?” Hanschen turned to where Melchior was, just to be met with the wall. He was just there, where had he gone? He glanced around the room, trying to find him. Obviously, he was talking to Ernst. Suddenly the money was unimportant to Hanschen.
He walked over to Melchior and Ernst, waiting for them to finish talking. After they did, Hanschen held out his hand for Ernst to shake.
“So you’re the bassist?” Hanschen asked as Ernst shook his hand.
“Mhm.”
Ernst seemed like the quiet type of guy. He didn’t say much. From the way that he seemed so hesitant around Hanschen, he assumed that Melchior had already established what kind of a guy Hanschen is. Established it wrong— that is.
Thanks, Gabor.
“May I ask what this band is called?” He let his hand drop back to his side.
“Oh, uh, All Is Forgiven.”
All Is Forgiven? That sounds dumb. I bet Gabor made it.
“Why that name?”
“Well, our old drummer picked it. It was the best one out of the rest of the ideas that they had come up with.” Ernst noticed the look of hesitance in Hanschen’s face. “It grows on you eventually.”
“Hm.”
“Yeah.” Ernst looked away awkwardly before his eyes landed on the box of cookies that sat on a folding table that sat near where Otto was strumming. “Oh! I made cookies for us today, so if you would like some, they’re just over there.”
Hanschen glanced at the table that the taller boy had pointed at and spotted the box. He smiled slightly. Hopefully Melchior hadn’t said too many bad things about him.
“Sure, thanks.”
As he ate a cookie (which was delectable, by the way) he mentally made notes about all of the members as he watched them.
Otto. Seems kind enough, I guess? Likes boats I assume, considering the fact that his guitar is covered in stickers of boats, and his shirt has one as well. He seems close to Georg.
Georg. Nerd. Pianist. Friends with Otto. I don’t really want to talk to him. He gives off weird energy.
Melchior. An ass (as per usual) and also the lead singer? I didn’t know that he could sing.
Ernst.
Ernst. There was a lot to take note of. He was the nicest one, so far.
Which wasn’t really fair of him to say, considering the fact that he has barely spoken to Georg and hasn’t spoken to Otto at all, but still.
Ernst. Bassist. I’m guessing he’s close with all the members, considering the fact that he can easily strike up conversation. Well— all of them except for Melchior. But really, who’s close to Melchior? Who would want to be close to Melchior? Anyways, he can bake very well. He seemed nervous to speak to me, probably because Gabor told the band every bad thing I’ve ever do—
“Hanschen? Hello? We’re going to start now.” Melchior said, grabbing Hanschen by the shoulders and shaking him slightly.
“Don’t touch me.” Hanschen quickly swatted Melchior’s hands away, leaning out of his grip.
Melchior sighed. “Please go sit down.”
Hanschen went over to the drumset and inspected it. It seemed relatively okay. The kick was slightly broken, but he could make do.
“Alright, here are the songs we’re doing.” Melchior passed him some sheet music and Hanschen quickly flipped through it. Two
whole Weezer songs seemed a bit excessive. And, of course, Radiohead and Fall Out Boy. At least Hanschen liked Radiohead.
“We’re going to just quickly go through them so that Hanschen can get a feel for them, and then we’ll focus on each song individually and work on them.”
Hanschen picked up the drumsticks and did a quick lick, making sure that the old drummer— whoever he was, had a good drum set. He did, in fact, have a good drum set.
And then they started.
Beginning with Pink Triangle by Weezer was definitely a choice. These guys had shit music taste.
Then they moved on to Just by Radiohead (one of Hanschen’s favourite songs, actually).
And then Undone: The Sweater Song by Weezer.
And finally ended with Saturday by Fall Out Boy.
Georg definitely chose all of these songs. Well, except for Just. I bet that one was Ernst.
The last half hour seemed to drag on, until finally Ernst suggested taking a break.
Otto quickly nodded in agreement. “I second that.”
Melchior glared at them for a moment before exhaling. “Fine. But we’ll come back after a moment. We still need to work on that last part in Just.”
Hanschen took this opportunity to stand up and stretch, his back and legs aching from bending over the drumset for so long. He glanced out of the sliver of window that was in the garage, noticing how the sun was actually out for the first time in days. God, it was about time. He decided that some vitamin D would be good for him, so he slipped up the stairs and out of the house without anyone seeing him. He shut the front door behind him and stared up at the clear blue sky. He loved the feeling of the cool air on his face, and how the sun added a tiny bit of warmth to it. Near the front of the Gabor’s house, there was a large oak tree. Melchior, Hanschen, Thea, and Melitta used to play out there all the time, climbing to the top of the tree and swinging back down on a branch that was close to the ground. In all honesty, he missed those times. He sat down, leaning against the trunk as he reminisced. The grass felt cool beneath his jeans, and he smiled slightly, as it reminded him of all the times that they would play out in the grass with Thea and Melitta’s dolls (and his dolls as well, but he didn’t like to admit that). Maybe all of that playing outdoors with his sisters and... friend... contributed to his love for the outdoors.
After a few minutes, his thoughts were interrupted by the noise of the old front door creaking open.
“Hanschen..?”
Ah, he recognised that voice.
“Oh, there you are.”
Hanschen looked up and his suspicions were confirmed. It was, in fact, Ernst.
“Looking for me?”
“Ah, yeah. Melchi wanted me to find you, and the last place I could think of to check was outside. He said that we’re starting again soon.” Ernst said, sitting down next to him. “Mind if I sit here?”
Hanschen nodded. “Mhm, sure. Why didn’t he come find me himself?”
Ernst only shrugged in response. There was an awkward moment of silence before Hanschen broke it with a question.
“Melchior mentioned that we’d be playing in front of a crowd sometime, but he didn’t give me any specifics. Can you fill me in?”
“Oh, he didn’t? Weird.” Ernst said, raising an eyebrow. “We’re going to be playing our first gig at the mall on Saturday, so we—“
“Saturday? Like, as in the day that’s 5 days from today?” Hanschen interrupted, shocked. Melchior could’ve at least told him a little earlier. “These songs aren’t too hard, so it’ll probably be okay, but he could’ve at least given me a heads-up.”
“He’s been quite… distracted lately, but yes, I agree.” Ernst said, letting his weight rest against the tree before adding, “sorry about him.”
Hanschen lightly chuckled, smiling at the dark-haired boy. “It’s alright, I’m used to him being a dumbass.” A pause. “Thanks for letting me know.”
Ernst glanced at him, smiling and nodding as to say ‘you’re welcome’. His hair wasn’t too long, but it wasn’t too short either, so when he turned his head some of his dark, straight hair fell into his face, and God, perhaps Hanschen was capable of feeling something other than just horniness.
Of course, this wonderful moment that would definitely keep Hanschen awake at night (for more than one reason), had to be disturbed by the sound of the door opening and the grating voice of the one and only—
“Ernst, where the fuck are you? Haven’t you found Ha—“
Melchior stopped in his tracks when he saw them, exhaling loudly.
“Why am I surprised? Hanschen, can you stop trying to get the first guy you see to sleep with you and start walking back to the garage to practice?”
“Fuck you, Gabor. I was only talking to him. How does it look like I’m trying to get him to sleep with me?”
“Yeah, sure. That’s what you said about Bobby.”
“Do not talk about Bobby.”
“I will if you don’t get to the garage in 5 seconds.”
Hanschen let out a frustrated exhale and quickly stood up, purposely hitting Melchior’s shoulder with his own as he walked by. Ernst and Melchior followed behind, Melchior content and Ernst incredibly confused (and red).