The 60's Way Of Thinking. Part 2

Here's chapter two. It kind of moves away from the music side of the story and more to the lives of the characters in this chapter. It focuses on how the group met Leila.

Ultimate Guitar


Waking up somewhere you don't recognise, with no recollection of the night before can mean two things. You had a great f--king time the night before, or your drink was spiked and you were raped. Or both I suppose.

I was lying half-naked in someones kitchen covered in food and wearing a pair of shoes that didn't belong to me. Well, I say kitchen but there wasn't much left of it. The microwave was lying smashed on the floor, the cooker was covered in what I assumed was paint, there was scorch marks up one of the walls and the fridge was lying beside a sink which was spurting out water and was almost not connected to the wall anymore. Oh and there was food everywhere.

After lying in a confused state of confusion for ten minutes, I decided to make a move. I slowly picked myself of the floor, and started to peel all the food off my body. When I reached into one of my shorts pockets I groaned. I dangled a sticky snake-skin infront of my eyes before letting it drop to the floor in discust. I prayed to the good lord that I'd gotten laid the night before and didn't properly dispose of my protection. Or maybe I had left my drink unsupervised at some point last night. I started dragging my feet through the kitchen and into the living room. There were paintings which had been thrown off the wall, the flat-screen T.V no longer had a screen and there were unconscious bodies everywhere. I did my best to weave in and out of the tangled limbs, but I didn't manage to get to other side of the room without inducing a few groans and curses. I baulked when I noticed a large cirular stain on the carpet which looked like a dark shade of red. Hopefully it was because someone at the party had been classy enough to bring along a bottle of red wine.

As I was walking down the hall I noticed a girl lying on the first few steps of the staircase, wearing my shoes. I gave her a gentle tap on the cheek and her eyes slowly opened.

"Did I f--k you last night?" I asked, loudly and clearly. I guess I won't ever know if I was raped or if I had consentual sex that night, because before she could answer, her eyes rolled back into her head and she threw up all over my arms and hands. Yuck. After swapping our shoes and wiping the worst of the puke on the girl's dress, I made for the front door. But I was distracted by a rack of coats. I glanced around before searching all the pockets one at a time. Damn, nothing. Someone beat me to the punch. Although it was bright, it was from the cold, watery-yellow sun that you get in winter when it's not raining or snowing and as soon I stepped outside, my nipples became errect enough to break glass. I wondered down the garden path, which was strewn with blankets and sleeping teenagers. I noticed Leila was sitting on the garden wall so I went and perched next to her. She was wearing battered Converse trainers with a lacey, sleeveless top and yellow and black striped tights. Her hair was a mess and her make-up was running but god, she looked sexy.

"Good night?" She asked without looking at me.

"Erm, I can't really remember any of it," I replied taking the cigarette she was offering me, "Since when do you smoke?"

"Since a few weeks ago," She sighed, taking one last drag, "Kris pretty much force fed me one and now I see why everyone makes a big fuss over them." She flicked the butt of the cigarette into the gutter and stood up.

"Yeah, Kris got me into all kinds of things," I grimaced, "I'll walk you home if you like?" She nodded and lit up another fag. Still not looking at me. We started walking in silence. It was awkward, because I didn't know what to say and I was pretty sure from her body languange and the way she refused to look at me, that Leila didn't even want to talk to me, so we just trudged along the pavement in silence, puffing ourselves to death. It only took about fifteen minutes to walk to Leila's part of town. Big houses, trimmed hedges and expensive cars.

Leila grew up posh. She lived in a massive house with a perfect garden and her dad owned a Jag, which he loved more than Leila herself. Her parents had brought her up to behave like an acceptable, polite young woman and they'd been doing a good job until their little princess met my friends and I. It had been at an under18's club night when we were all fourteen...

Kris, Johnny, Andrew, Christian, Frank and I were warming up at Michelle's house with a few of her girlfriends. We were certain that we wouldn't be served alcohol at an under18's disco, so we had to get it down the hatch before we went out.

"Pass the whisky," Andrew said to a girl called Ayeisha, who he blatently had a thing for. She smiled as she made a big deal of touching his hand when she gave him the bottle. Someones getting laid tonight, I thought sullenly. I was pretty embarrased about being the only one in our group who's virginity was still firmly intact. I wasn't very confident about having a good time. My auntie had just died from cancer and my mum had been f--king neglecting me for some severe self-sorrying. Not to mention the fact that me and Christian couldn't for the life of us find anyone who would help get our band up and running. I needed to get pissed and forget about it, but I had a feeling that my luck wasn't going to improve. After about half an hour of shots, shit-mix and drinking games, we headed out of Michelle's.

Feeling pretty drunk, I decided that the night may just be decent afterall. We paid six pounds at the doors of the club and swaggered onto the dancefloor. A song from High School Musical was just finishing and I groaned when that overplayed Basshunter song started to thump out of the speakers. From what I could gather so far, the nights music had been picked by a thirty-something, over-eager youth worker trying to be down with the kids. You know the type. There was a few other teens who looked bitchy about the shit music, but everyone else was swaying merrily away to the tunes, so, determined to have a good time, I ploughed through the crowd to get a drink from the bar.

"Erm, I'll just have a glass of coke please," I said to one of the girls working the bar, after waiting in line for ten minutes.

"Sure," She smiled, "Do you want some real drink in that?" She giggled at the look of shock on my face. This was my first time being served alcohol by a complete stranger. She slid several ice cubes into the coke/vodka mix and traded it for my money.

"Thank you very much." I grinned. I took a couple of gulps from my drink and chuckled to myself, as I tasted far more vodka than coke. When I decided to search for somewhere to sit, I noticed a pretty girl sitting at the corner of the bar by herself. I made my way over to her and pulled up a stool. "What's a beautiful girl like you doing sitting all alone?" I asked, smiling. She looked me up and down, and made me feel like I was being judged. I started to feel self-conscious and wondered if it had been a good idea coming over to try and make a new friend.

"A couple of girls from my school felt sorry for me. So they invited me here because I don't have any friends," She said, still staring at me, "They f--ked off with a group of boys and I haven't seen them since." I loosened up a bit after hearing her talk, and grew some balls.

"Erm, can I buy you a drink?" I asked, chancing a grin, "The nice lady at the bar seems to like me." She held up a glass full of clear liquid.

"She must like me too then," The girl said, still not taking her eyes off me.

"I'm Greg, by the way," I said, hoping to keep the conversation flowing.

"Leila." She took a few sips of her vodka, watching me as I sat fidgeting.

"Erm, fancy a dance?" I tried. I didn't even get a response, so I took that as a no. After sweating through an awkward silence for ten long minutes, she finally said something.

"What school do you go to?"

"I don't," I replied, glancing down at my feet, "Well occasionally I do, but yeah... not really." Back to the staring and the silence. I had no idea why I was still sitting there, being tortured, but something was stopping me from getting up and finding my friends. My friends.

"Listen, you know how you said you don't have any mates?" I started, "well do you fancy coming to meet a few of mine?" And to my great relief she stood up.

"Why not?" She gifted me the closest thing I'd seen to a smile since I started talking to her, and took my hand. It unnerved me how much she was in control. Even though we were going to meet my friends, it was her that led me onto the dance floor. It was a nice view from behind anyway. I watched as she downed the vodka while walking and she let the glass slip through her fingers and smash on the floor once she was finished.

I stopped and groaned. There was a small opening in the middle of the floor with just enough space for two people to move around in. I used my height and weight to push Leila and I into the first row of spectators. It looked like the fight was coming to an end because a couple of bouncers had plucked Kris off a flailing, skinny body and one of them was dragging him out onto the street.

"Yeah, thats Kris." I said, embarrased at the way she had to be introduced to my best friend.

"Exciting." She said, actually smiling. That dampened my mood further as I'd just spent the last twenty minutes trying to make her show some sign that she was enjoying herself. I glanced around looking for someone else. Andrew and Ayeisha were sitting on a chair on the far side of the room trading DNA and I assumed everyone else had followed Kris out the door.

"Come on, I think they've all left." I led Leila out onto the street without receiving any objections from her and sure enough everyone was gathered around Kris, who had tissue up his nose and was hacking blood onto the road.

"Guys, I want you to meet someone," I said loudly, "This is Leila." She gave them all the judge look I'd been treated to and must of liked what she saw, becuase she slid her hand out of mine and offered it around for shaking. I just about came in my pants when she intwined her fingers around mine again after the introductions.

"You guys can come back to mine if you fancy it?" I said over Kris' coughing. "It's not like my mum will notice anyway." Leila tightened her grip on me, signaling that she wanted to come too.

Twenty minutes later we arrived in my overgrown garden, and before we went inside I warned everyone to keep quiet because my baby brother was sleeping.

I led teh gang into the hallway and told them to go upstairs to my room. Leila kept hold of my hand. Once they'd all clambered upstairs, I ducked my head into the kitchen and did my best to act sober.

"Mum, thats us home." I said, softly. She didn't take any notice. She was sat at the table with the only light in the room coming from the orange streetlamps outside. She was wearing a furry pink dressing gown and her hair was all stragly. There was an empty bottle of wine lying smashed on the floor and my mum was staring, gauntly, at a photo of her and her sister when they were children.

"I better clean that up before David cuts himself on it." I whispered to Leila, hesitating, before kissing her on the cheek. I went into the cupboard beneath the sink and grabbed a brush and shovel. I bend down and started to brush some of the glass up, but before it could reach the shovel I felt a searing pain slash accross my face. I yelped in shock as I fell backwards and hit my head off the floor.

"Did I tell you to clean that?" My mother hissed. Leila pursed her lips and her body became slightly tense, but she didn't move. She just stood in the doorway staring at us.

"What? No, I mean sorry mum," I gasped close to tears, as I felt hot blood trickle down my neck. She had never hit me before that night.

"Go on," she snarled, throwing the brush at me, "F--k off out of my site."

I backed out of the kitchen and slammed the door behind me. The last thing I saw was my mum slumping back into her chair, her face going back to the blank, dead look she had on before, and her hand slowly picking the photograph up. I burst into tears as Leila pulled me into a hug. I held her tighter than I had ever held anyone but I didn't want to seem like an emo infront of my freinds so I released her and wiped my eyes with my t-shirt. I led Liela upstairs and before we headed into my room, I took her into my mother's bedroom where a cott was standing parallel to the bed. I reached into it and stroked my two year old brother, David, on the cheek.

"He's really cute." Leila said, staring at him. I let him grip my pinky finger in his sleep. We stood in silence, watching him for a while before we were interupted by Frank. He was obviously wasted, and his eyes had a glazed look which meant he'd probably taken a few puffs of a joint.

"What's taking you guys so long?" He asked, smiling as he walked over to the cot... "He's cute, man."

I considered how much easier David had it. Right now all he had to worry about was what toy to play with tomorrow or whether to watch Bob The Builder or IceAge3 on DVD. Right now, he was one of the most innocent humans on earth. Lucky little bastard. I wondered what it felt like to start on a clean slate.

I gently released David's grip on my finger and walked quietly through to my room with Leila and Frank. Everyone was arranged on my bed watching T.V chatting away drunkenly. All my friends excluding Andrew. Christian, Michelle, Johnny, Frank and Kris.

That night, when everyone went home leaving me and Leila in bed. Yes it happened. Halle-f--king-luah.

************ And that is why Leila Wales, a young girl who should of been earning the respect of society, through good deeds and going to church, was walking through Glasgow with a waster like me, earning dirty looks off old people in sweaters and posh cars, who'd worked and earned that type of respect their whole lives, striving for approval and a good reputation. Well if it meant ending up like one of them, who the fuck would want that kind respect?

When we reached Leila's garden gate she turned to me. And looked me straight in the eye.

"Listen," She started, hesitating slightly before continuing her sentence, "My parents are at a Church Garden Party for the next few hours, so if you like you can come in and we could watch a DVD or something... After we clean up obviously."

Got her, I thought to myself, grinning wildly as she took my hand and led me indoors.

28 comments sorted by best / new / date

    Mmm. you should seriously get someone to check your grammar. You've got a decent narrative flow, which shows promise, though. I think that the characterisation is a bit juvenile. It reads like someone's fantasy with bad things thrown in to make it seem less like a fantasy. The validity of the previous comment hinges on whether you actually use what happened meaningfully later on, making it sensible plotting. So I'm watching this space with interest.
    Plentyful of typos! But guess what? Who cares!?! The story feels like it's gonna get interesting!
    soulflyV wrote: I saw 'confused state of confusion'. I hesitated to read more. I read until I saw 'must of' and 'came in my pants'. Firstly, if you're going to write, make sure can actually speak your own language. The term is 'must have', 'must of' makes no sense whatsoever. Like other people have said, the house party was fairly unrealistic. Average story at best.
    Speak my own language? That is exactly how I speak. It might be wrong but "must of" is how people pronounce "must have" where I come from. Cheers for the comment anyway.
    I saw 'confused state of confusion'. I hesitated to read more. I read until I saw 'must of' and 'came in my pants'. Firstly, if you're going to write, make sure can actually speak your own language. The term is 'must have', 'must of' makes no sense whatsoever. Like other people have said, the house party was fairly unrealistic. Average story at best.
    Zzz, what's the point? For a writing class, this would be OK, but I suspect the writer has greater ambitions. Sorry, but this was not good!
    I like it, the writing style matches up well with the narrative. Keep it up, I was hoping a story like this would pop up on UG
    Is any of this stuff close to true? I checked your profile and since you come from a "shithole" I don't doubt it as much, but still, it seems rather excessive?
    the house party was unrealistic. that was intensely overdone. then again. most parties here ar outside.
    Icarus Lives
    Oh, that's very good. I was gonna write one like this, you bastard. Oh well, UG's got enough fiction. One criticism: the house party carnage was overdone. The only time I experienced that kind of destruction was when some guys I know had a party in a show house for sale they broke into.
    BlouPontak wrote: Mmm. you should seriously get someone to check your grammar. You've got a decent narrative flow, which shows promise, though. I think that the characterisation is a bit juvenile. It reads like someone's fantasy with bad things thrown in to make it seem less like a fantasy. The validity of the previous comment hinges on whether you actually use what happened meaningfully later on, making it sensible plotting. So I'm watching this space with interest.
    I will be careful with the grammar. I'm not really sure what you mean by juvenile, but the characters are still young adults growing up.
    Pretty good.
    Tom123Collins wrote: Nice. Even better than chapter one, and that's saying something.
    MrDinkleberry wrote: Great story. I only noticed one typo in this one. Can't wait for the next one!
    And i ****ed up the last short paragraph before the *****'s. Thanks for the comments.