You're not in the band if your the roadie...

[Jude Wainwright]

The cafe was crowded, noisy and full of student's waiting for a evening of entertainment away from the troublesome thoughts of school work, sitting or standing while sipping their $3.50 cups of coffee. Jude was well aware that most of those students were here to see them; the great, the wonderful, the [not so] fabulous Random Comment. He wondered, idly as he tuned the strings on Ophelia's guitar for her while she got him a bottle of water from the counter, if any of those student's realized that they went to their school. None of the band members were really popular at school; it had come as a shock when he had learned that the band had a following.

Ophelia reappeared with two bottles of water, placing one beside Jude as she moved to sit on one of the stools set up for them. "How's it coming?" she asked, as the Brighton siblings appeared, Samson twirling his sparkly pink drum sticks and Sarah hoisting her keyboard. "Hey, about time you two got here. This isn't history class, you know." Samson smiled, flicking blonde hair from his eyes as he draped an arm around Jude's shoulder, cheerful. "We were stuck in traffic. And Miss Thang here had to stop every two blocks to fix her hair." Sarah gave him a growl, and he raised his hands in defense. "Anyways, we're here. Is that girl you're unnfing here yet, Ophi?" Ophelia scowled, swatting the blonde. "She has a name you know. And yes, she's here. Sitting in her usual spot." Samson grinned, moving his hands to tuck under Jude's shirt as the singer handed the guitar to his sister.

"Samson, do you have to shove your hands into my clothing every chance you get?" Samson smirked, and Jude pulled the hands from his shirt, standing up and moving to plug the microphone in. "We're about ready to start guys, is everyone ready?" There were cheers and clapping, and Jude smiled, moving to plug in Sarah's keyboard for her.

[Brody Rogers]

Tatum had indeed settled into her usual spot, a comfortable distance away from the crowd, and the stage. She had come alone, since Rath had said something about needing to meet someone in an online game, and Seraphim claimed to have test in her chemistry class on the very next morning.

Instead of a sibling, she had brought a book along with her, though it was a bit difficult to read in the dim light of the cafe. They always turned the lights down when there was a show going on, in some strange attempt to set the mood. As Jude spoke into his microphone, getting the attention of the crowd, Tatum looked up from her book, before quickly closing it over and sliding it onto the table, reaching for her overly expensive coffee instead.

She saw Ophelia on the stage, talking to Samson [or at least she thought his name was Samson], and she smiled rather fondly. She considered sending a text message, wishing her luck, but since Ophi's phone was currently in Tatum's purse, handed off to her to hold onto before the show, it wouldn't do very much good.

Also present in the crowd, was Brody Rogers. Though she looked a lot less pleased than Tatum did; she was seated closer to the stage, and had her arms crossed over her chest, with her untouched coffee placed onto the table in front of her. Why did she even come to these stupid things? Well, Ophelia was a good friend of hers, of course. And an excellent guitarist. But still, listening to Jude singing was not on the top of Brody's to-do list. Jude Wainwright, mister know-it-all of music, golden boy of Seneca Cafe, god to women and men alike, master of singing, reveled and respected by his fans.

Well, maybe that was exaggerating it a bit, but Brody was the type of exaggerate most things. Especially the bitter feelings she felt for Jude.

Sure, it was mostly jealousy that she wasn't playing for a packed crowd every other night. Even in a town like Parkdale, which she wasn't too fond of, playing for a crowd was a rush like no other. And she wanted it badly. Unlike Jude, she refused a band, deciding that staying solo was the way to go, and it cost her quite a few gigs. Including ones at the cafe. She wasn't looking to get other people famous, after all; she wanted to be famous! And all of the Jude Wainwrights of the world, with their tight pants and touchy feely drummers, were taking that away from her.

Huffing loudly, the light-haired teenager reached out with her undamaged hand, taking up her coffee and taking a large drink from it, only wincing slightly as it burnt her tongue.

Perfect completion to an already crappy night.

[Lucy Hartigan]

For someone who hated labels, Lucy Hartigan had to admit to herself, as she checked the mirror before leaving, that she played the part of a Scene Queen quite well. She had to have about 13 pairs of skinny jeans, in varying degrees of blue, grey and black. Tonight she was wearing her favorite dark denim pair, with a faded, grey Led Zeppelin tshirt, topped with about a million little bracelets, star earrings, and a dark denim jacket with little pins on it. She scowled at herself a little when she realized the head band she'd tossed in her dark brown hair even had a tiny red bow on it. Yes, she was like the more vicious version of that MySpace whore Kiki Kannibal. Well, at least she'd fit in with the crowd at the cafe.

Pissed that her parents wouldn't lend the car, she'd speed-walked over, hoping to make it there without keeping Brody waiting too long. That would only give the older girl a chance to sit and stew, and grow generally more pissed off til something would happen and a scene might ensue, and Lucy didn't want to be the cause of it. She flew into the cafe, grumpily coughing up the two dollars for cover and $3.50 for a coffee. Her grey eyes scanned the crowded place; eventually, her eyes fell on Brody, sitting at a little table near the front and - surprise, surprise - not looking too pleased as she glared at Jude Wainwright.

Walking briskly but quietly to the table, Lucy crept up behind Brody. She leaned over til she was right next to the other girl's ear, before loudly whispering, "BOO!"

[Brody Rogers]

Being as incredibly absorbed in her own teenage angst and puddles of self pity as she was, Brody hadn't even realized that Lucy was sneaking up behind her, until the other girl had actually arrived, and successfully scared the pants off of her. Jumping nearly out of her chair, and slopping a portion of her coffee into her lap, Brody spun around to look at her friend, scowl still on her face. "Jesus! Is that how you greet your best friend!?" was all she managed, still looking supremely unimpressed with life right at that moment, especially now that she was the proud owner of a part of partially sopping wet jeans.

There was none of her usual flirty banter or teasing, just the scowl. As usually happened when she was feeling broody about something. Which was rare, but an incredible pain when it did actually happen.

[Lucy Hartigan]

"Ah, I see I'm too late to stop you from going into meltdown-mode," the brunette said cheerfully as she plopped into the empty chair next to her friend. "I don't get why you do this to yourself, y'know. I get that you and Ophelia are tight, but man, this is just self-abuse in it's worst form." She took a sip of her drink. "Coffee's good tonight, at least. Something to smile about. Am I going to see a smile tonight? Cause if not, I may have to blow this popsicle stand now. It's a night off, love, and we're not tethered to our desks by headsets. I think it has to be enjoyed at all costs."

[Brody Rogers]

"I'm not in meltdown-mode. I'm not doing any sort of melting," Brody muttered, still looking pouty, though she settled more comfortable into her seat when Lucy joined her at the table. "And I'm sure the coffee is great, but seeing as I have no taste buds in my crotch, where I have just spilled mine, I wouldn't know. Gimme some of yours," she demanded, holding her hand out to the other girl. She deliberately chose to ignore her friend's question about why she even came to these shows; she really wasn't even sure herself. It was a tad hard to explain. She'd use Ophelia as an excuse, if the need arose, but mostly it was just a bit of an enigma, even to Brody. Maybe she really did get off on upsetting herself like this, just a little.

The comment about being tethered to their desks by their headsets brought an amusing mental image into her head, and finally Brody did smile, rolling her eyes as she made further grabby handed motions at Lucy's cup. "Yeah, whatever. I can smile for you, I guess, if you're going to be an asshole about it."

[Lucy Hartigan]

"And I can assure you I am," she said, handing over her coffee. "I probably just made you sterile, too. Hot beverages can do that, or so I've heard. And you were defintiely at least approaching meltdown-mode. I've seen it before and it's most unbecoming of you," Lucy said in a mock British accent. "We should just settle in and chill. And see if there are any guys here who aren't flaming homosexuals. However that seems to be a losing battle in Parkdale lately."

[Jude Wainwright]

Jude stood in front of the microphone, watching the gathered crowd as the rest of the band got ready. He hated this part; the waiting, the watching the crowd. He saw several people he knew; Tatum, and that girl who seemed to hate him. He looke over the set list one more time, frowning at the chosen songs but sighing and flicking on the mic with a glance at Ophelia and Samson. Sarah ran her fingers down the keys, and he cleared his throat, preparing to start.

"Hey, guys. Glad you could make it out. Uh, I'm going to start with a shout out to my boy Adrian; Happy birthday, man. We're apparently gunna start it slow with a cover of Come As You Are..." he trailed off, and the music began, and he began to sing.

[Adrian Scott-Bridgers]

Adrian said he'd be there, and so he was, staring a little wistfully at the stage and ignoring the mocha that sit cooling before him. He usually wasn't present during the shows that were hosted at the cafe; by that hour he was either at the library or back at home...in his own personal library. Let no one say that Adrian Scott-Bridgers wasn't consistent when it came to the books.

Let it also go unsaid that he didn't uphold his end of an agreement. But he was still a bit stunned when Jude and the rest were presented on stage. When the dark-haired musician frowned, Adrian was momentarily overcome with a great urge to hop up stage, glomp Jude and then return to his seat, but that might seem a little odd. Especially considering he didn't know many people in the primarily faceless crowed. A few individuals by face, sure. None by close association.

And then Jude wished him a happy birthday and started singing, and for Adrian nothing else existed until the song ended. He leaned forward onto the table, resting his chin on top of his hand and he stared. Okay, he ogled, but some things cannot be helped. Adrian wasn't the sort to try, even if he could. His priorities only counted into the twos: one, make sure that he remembered to pay Jude back for that (in the best way possible) and two, try very, very hard not to drool into his mocha.

[Brody Rogers]

Brody took the coffee happily, taking two sips from it, before handing it back to the brunette. It wasn't near as hot as Brody's had been, even though she had arrived later; clearly, conspiracy was afoot. "Well, good. At least I never wanted any kids. I don't want to end up like my parents," she sighed, her eyes trailing off to the stage as Jude was standing in front of his mic, and the rest of the band was finishing on setting up. "And I'm loving the accent, it's very fitting. It's very becoming of you, one could say. But I'm down for chilling, I guess. Although I'm a bit heart broken that I came here to wallow in my own self pity, and you're here trolling for booty. As usual."

She quieted as Jude spoke, and the band began to play their first song, their own rendition on a Nirvana classic. Scowling, she crossed her arms over her chest once more. "What did I tell you last night? Glorified cover band."

[Jude Wainwright]

Ophelia played the set songs by heart, eyes scanning the crowd for Tatum. She smiled as she spotted her, sitting in her corner and sipping her coffee. She also spotted Brody and Lucy, and she was aware that they were most likely ragging on poor Jude. Her eyes averted to Jude, who stood, nearly shaking in front of the mic. Gigs got to him sometimes; and he hadn't been feeling so hot before the show, if she recalled. She kept an eye on him as they began another song, something Jude had written ages ago, simple and sweet with an undertone of melancholy, ready to catch Jude should his body decide to give out on him.

Jude kept a firm grip on the microphone stand, eyes focused on Adrian, sitting where he was sure to be spotted. He felt sick; but that was normal; it was the adrenaline pumping through him. He broke out into a new song, one of his older, original songs that had somehow made it onto the mostly covers play list, and he flashed a smile, glad for something of his own.

[Adrian Scott-Bridgers]

At one point, finally being able to tear his gaze away from Jude (which was no easy feat, mind you), he glanced around the room to check on the reception the band was receiving. He was certainly impressed, anyway. Everyone seemed to be having as good a time as he was (or nearly, anyway), until he spotted an unhappy-looking girl with red/blonde hair who looked quite as though she was being forced to stay against her will. The dark haired girl, who seemed much happier, with her was saying something -- and he briefly wondered if she was reason the lighter-haired girl was there despite the scowl. But Adrian couldn't make it out what they were saying over the music. And after a moment of consideration, he decided he really didn't want to. Who knew Jude could sing like that?!

He returned his attention to the stage again, and caught Jude's eye, and decided that he wasn't going to look away for the rest of the set unless something apocalyptic happened. Because he had never heard the song that Jude was singing before, and it was somehow perfect, and he knew that he would want to hear it again. Just him and Jude, without the crowd and the grumpy-girl, and the fact that the girl behind Jude seemed so concerned over him (flashing her gaze consistently to him when she wasn't searching the audience. Adrian could tell that she wasn't just looking out, but seeking a specific individual -- it was something in the way her eyes seemed to not see anyone else). And fingers moving slowly to the beat, he focused his attention on the lryrics, and tried not to smile too much at Jude, but it was something of a losing battle.

[Tatum Donnelly]

From her position in the corner, Tatum was quite content, relaxed back into her chair and listening to the band as they played. She could already tell that it was going to be a good set. Nirvana was, without a doubt, a step in the right direction, one of her personal favorites. The lot of them really were quite good, and Jude did have such a beautiful voice. Much nicer than his sister, when she tried to come up with random love ballads to spontenous burst out with in the hallways between classes. Not that such events weren't endearing, of course, because they were. Albeit slightly awkward.

And beside that, for as nice as Jude sounded, Ophelia looked better. Though it was a bit of a personal bias, she supposed. There was just something incredibly attractive about Ophi when she really got into playing her guitar, and the stage and dim lighting only seemed to amplify that. It was the same determined look she had on her face even when they were alone, just strumming out absent tunes on Bowie and Bolan. It always seemed to draw Tatum in, and leave her staring.

She wasn't really aware of the crowd around her, once she had gotten into the music; it seemed to make some of the nervous feelings fade away slightly. She had noticed Brody and Lucy earlier, but hadn't bothered to say anything to them, since they knew Ophelia much better than they knew her. They were nice girls , but she knew that she was just 'Ophelia's girlfriend' to them. As she was to a lot of people at school. People knew Ophelia; it was hard not to, given her personality type. Tatum was more content to be her sidekick of sorts, and settle into the background. It had been that way since they had been young.

Noticing that the other girl was scanning the crowd for her, she felt her lips spreading into a grin, as her eye's met Ophi's for just a moment, and she raised her hand in a rather sheepish little wave.

[Jude Wainwright]

As the first half of the set came to an end, Jude wipes his hand across his cheek, smiling at the crowd as he reached for his drink. "You guys having fun yet?" he asked, as Ophelia took the strap off her guitar, placing it in the stand. "We're just gunna take a little break, we need a drink!" The crowd clapped, and Jude flipped off the mic. As soon as he turned to get a drink, he found himself with an armful of tall blond drummer. "Ack, Samson! You're like, a foot taller then me, you can't hang off'a me like that!" Ophelia snickered from her spot, handing Jude a bottle of water while Samson grabbed the smaller teen up in a sort of groping hug.

"Aw, baby, you look so sexy when you sing!" Jude rolled his eyes, shoving at Samson's wandering hands before taking a swig of water to soothe his throat.

"You are so very odd."

[Adrian Scott-Bridgers]

Adrian watched the set close and Jude announce that they would be pausing for a while. He hoped that Jude would at least come and say hello during the break, and glanced at his watch. He hadn't realized quite so much time had passed, but it was easy to get distracted while staring at the singer. Okay, okay, ogling the singer. Jeez, it was hard not to.

He looked up again, and saw that the enormous blonde drummer wrapped around Jude in an embracing-grope. Even the over-protective seeming girl on guitar seemed more amused than anything else, so it couldn't have been too strange an occurance. A stab of jealousy shot through him quickly -- but he ignored it. He took a long sip of his very cool mocha and wondered if he'd have time to slip out for a cigarette before they started again. And more importantly, if he had time to do so while still managing to reclaim his seat when he returned.