Written in the Stars (Chapter two)

        “Can I talk to you now?” he asked. I nodded. “Pierre, I know that you’re taking this the hardest.”
         “How can you tell?”
         “Everyone was wearing black, but you were the only one crying.” I picked up Sébastien’s special guitar, the one he gave me, and strummed it.
         “Is this all you wanted to talk about?” I asked without looking up.
         “No, I was going to ask what is going to happen to Simple Plan. We can’t just replace him, but we also can’t let the fans down. We already scheduled a bunch of shows.” I looked down at the guitar I was holding, then back up at Chuck with a devious smile. “No way. You can’t learn all of his parts and the vocals.”
         “I can try, but it won’t be the same.”
         “Well, we should talk to the other guys and see what they think.”
         “I know, and we’ll do that.” I looked down at the guitar again. He loved this instrument so much; I can’t believe he gave it to me. I don’t even play guitar. Yeah, I know how to, but I’m a professional singer.  “I know how to play every song on No Pads, No Helmets… Just Balls and a few others, so there’s a start.”
         “Okay.” Silence. “Hey, this might be a lot to ask, but can you tell me what exactly happened that night, when Sébastien was... killed.” When Sébastien was killed. I’ve heard that so many times lately. Tears filled my eyes.
         “Seb and I were here, in the living room, watching a movie; some guy broke my sliding glass door and yelled, “Nobody move! I swear I’ll shoot!” Seb made a quick move and through a glass at his head. That’s when the guy shot him… right in the head. Then he ran away. My eyes were huge, my heart was racing; I was in shock,” I said, on the verge of sobbing.
         “Dude, did you see his face?”
        “No, he was wearing a ski mask… Chuck, I miss him so much.”
         “All of us do, Pierre, but I’m wondering why you’re more effected by this than anyone else.”
         “It’s mostly because for the past eight months that he lived with me, he told me things that he never told anyone else, and I told him things I never told anyone else. We wouldn’t make fun of each other, or interrupt in the middle of our stories. And it’s also because I’m the only person who saw him die.”
         “So, you‘d rather talk to him than me?”
         “I guess.”
         “But I never make fun of you or interrupt you!”
         “I know, and you’re still my best friend ever, but he was just easier to talk to about some things,” I said quietly. He knew he had to stop arguing.
         “I’m sorry.”
         “It’s okay.” There was an awkward silence for a few minutes.
         “Um, where am I sleeping tonight?”
         “Where do you want to sleep?”
         “Sébastien’s room?”
         “No…”
         “Sorry, um, how about the couch?”
         “Okay, I’ll get a pillow and blanket,” I said.
         “You don’t have to do it right now; it’s only 7:45. Do you want to go to the movies?”
         “Sure, but nothing scary; I want to get death off my mind.” Chuck drove us to the movie theater.
         “Let’s see this,” he said pointing to a movie poster outside the theater.
         “Okay…” I said, noticing the fact that Seb and I were going to see this movie.
         “Do you want to see this?”
         “Yeah, I was just thinking of something.”
         “Are you sure, Pierre?”
         “Yes, I’m sure,” I said irritated.
         “Psh. Sorry,” he replied annoyed with me.
         “I didn’t mean to say it that way. I’m just not in the best mood.” He didn’t respond. Chuck and I both put $8 on the counter and said, “Two tickets to see Priest.” She gave us our tickets and we went into the movie room. “Well, so much for not seeing anything scary…”
         “I asked you if you were sure you wanted to see this!”
         “I know! But I still didn’t say I don’t want to see it!”
         “God damn it, Pierre! I know one of your closest friends just passed away, he was my friend too, but you’re getting on my fucking nerves!” I was silent for a moment so I could figure out what just happened. It took me a minute, but I found the right- or what seemed right at the time –words to say.
         “I’m sorry, but it’s just that I’m stressed out and I don’t have Sébastien to talk to about it anymore!” I stood up and yelled.
         “Shut the fuck up! You’re going to get us kicked out of here!” he whispered.
         “I don’t give a shit!”
         “Excuse me, but you two are disturbing the other guests. I have to ask you to leave,” a guy who worked there said quietly.
         “Nice going, Pierre “Dumbass” Bouvier.” We left the movie room.
         “Screw you, Chuck Homo.”
         The worker guy butt in and said, “Wait are you guys in Simple Plan?”
         “Um, yeah…” Chuck said.
         “Oh my god! My daughter loves you guys! Could you two stay here for just five minutes?”
         Chuck and I shared a glance. “Sure, anything for a fan.” The guy texted- I’m guessing –his daughter and told her to come here. I hope she doesn’t come; I’m in no mood to sign my name on a picture of us… I don’t want to see Seb. I want to get him off my mind.
         “Never mind, she said she doesn’t want to inconsiderate. Do you know why?”
         “It’s because—” I started to say, but Chuck cut me off.
         “It’s because our rhythm guitarist was killed last week.”
         “Oh, I’m really sorry to hear that.”
         “Thanks, um, we have to go home now, tell you daughter that we said hi,” Chuck said. We went outside to his car.
         “One thing off my life to-do list.”
         “What do you mean?”
         “Getting kicked out of a movie.”
         He hesitated and said, “Nice goal…”
         “Yeah, another one was trashing a hotel room. David and I were going to do that back in ’03, but you, Jeff, and… Seb stopped us…” My voice got quieter as I spoke.
         “Oh…” And there was yet another awkward silence. It was like this pretty much the whole way home. It was about 8:20 when we got back to my place.