I'm In The Band! (Amber)

[Jazz Costelloe]

"Da! Da! I'm goin' out for a bit, I'll be back later!" Jazz yelled up the stairs in his oh-so-eloquent Dublin accent. The one and only Irish kid in Fairview, nice title, but came with the cost of all the stuff he had back in Ireland. Still had his guitar though. His father's head popped out at the top of the stairs. "Yeah, I'm finishin' the attic, ring me if ya need a lift. Jazz saluted him with a grin on his face and watched his father go back out of sight like a struck whac-a-mole. He turned quickly around and grasped the handle of his black road runner guitar case. Jazz opened the door and stepped out, before heading off to make his money.

With the worldwide "recession" that was going on, he was pretty much screwed for getting a real job and was instead, stuck busking outside of the Java Hut, which had a lot of foot traffic and so was great for getting paid...and heckled. He stood outside the small store with his guitar slung around his shoulders, the strap laden with buttons and pins, Hard Rock Café, Paddington Bear, Rolling Stones, everything you could think of had a spot on his strap. His hand struck the G chord he'd formed continously as he sang.

♪Come gather round people, wherever you roam.
And admit that the waters around you have grown.
And accept it that soon you'll be drenched to the bon--♪

Jazz stopped and slapped at the cup that was thrown at him by a giggling Jock, who was wearing his college letterman jacket, he snorted as he laughed and walked away from Jazz. "You suck!"

How imaginative... He looked at his feet and his guitar case, which currently had about 23 cents in total in it. His fingers began hitting the strings of his guitar as he started off again.

♪She's a good girl, loves her mama
Loves Jesus and America too
She's a good girl, crazy bout Elvis
Loves Horses and her boyfriend too,

It's a long day livin' in Reseda
There's a freeway, runnin' through the yard
I'm a bad boy, cos I don't even miss her
I'm a bad boy, for breakin' her heart

And now I'm free
Free fallin' fallin'
And now I'm free
Free fallin' fallin'♪

Thanks... He muttered, picking up his case and zipping it shut, before turning around and entering the shop. Coffee. Whatever kind the lot of ye sell in here. He threw a five dollar bill on the table, still getting used to not saying "euro" instead of dollars. He grasped the foam cup and brought it to a table beside the window, directly opposite where he had been busking. Sitting in silence.