Goth Guitarist Novels & Stories

A low murmur erupted from the class. “Is she even allowed to flunk us?” I asked distastefully. “She’s the teacher isn’t she? So, who are you going to pick?” Tommy asked behind me. I sank down in my chair and put my head back “Suppose it will be Angus Young.” I replied thoughtfully before I turned around and looked at him directly “She’s a sub.” “Angus what?” Tommy asked confused, ignoring my last remark. “The lead guitar player of AC/DC you moron.” I snapped, turned around and slid down in my chair before closing my eyes.

He reached twenty-seven and still did not get the diploma. He is the lead guitarist and lead singer of the band ‘THE FALLEN ANGELS’. Ms. Capa was the one who named this band. The three boys are not only famous at school, but also in other places. He was mistaken for a Gangster look because of the tattoos surrounding both his arms.

Just friends. He had their names memorized-Hondo Carr on rhythm guitar, Tony Baez on lead guitar and Jack Duval on drums. The one new member of the group was the replacement for Cobra Mattice, a bass player, Hayes Vaughn. Carson had texted him the info as soon as he had the man in place so Caleb could get Omega to run it through their computers. Grey Holden had been more than happy to do it for him. "You getting back in the game, buddy?" We can sure use you."

Hair for face guy was tall and very skinny, made me think of the bass he was playing. The lead guitarist had black flames tattooed on his neck and shaggy blonde hair with dark roots. His face was long and angular. His dark gray eyes scanned the crowd. The music started and everyone started jumping and dancing. We all stayed to the side, so we wouldn't get thrown into mosh pits.

He grasps his erection, that’s almost punching through his black slacks. Asher pulls up a black stool and grabs one of the guitars perched on the stage. It’s the one that caught my eye when I initially scanned the room. I couldn’t tell you what model it is, but it is a mix of deep purples, blacks, and blues, with a giant wolf paw print. I bet it’s his wolf’s paw print. The silver strings are taut and squeak as he runs his fingers up and down the neck swiftly. He leans over, picking up a black cord, which I now realize is the connection to the speaker I’m sitting on. He plugs the end of the cord into the receiver of his guitar and a gentle humming sensation generates beneath me.

“Play with the pain. Use the thud. Make the failure part of the song.” He stared at me for a long beat, his gaze searching mine for sarcasm and finding none. He shifted the guitar, resting it more firmly against his chest. He closed his eyes and began to strum. He didn't try for the complex fingerpicking that had made him a legend. He used his thumb, a slow, rhythmic beat against the low E string, creating a drone that sounded like a heartbeat in a dark room.

Well, in my opinion, you need some kind of musical tastes. -My musical tastes are exquisite! -she defends herself, looking amusingly offended. The Jonas, Miley, Demi and Selena Gomez inspired me to want to play guitar and piano. -Well, their inspiration didn't last long. You know who inspired me to play guitar? The best guitarist in the world. Carlos Santana. I met him once, at the concert of....

"Gibson guitars are known for their distinct tone and quality! It's made out of solid mahogany." “Dude, who cares?” Tom muttered. “He’s so annoying,” Regina commented. “Looks like Taylor turned Charlie into a babysitter for his freak of a brother,” Archie sneered. “I’m not a freak. I’m special and smart,” Tristan said, defending himself. “I’m very good at playing the guitar too. I can play again. I’m talented. Do you want to hear?” Tristan began strumming another song, eager to prove himself, but Archie’s irritation spiked.

They both finally decided to disband the Heretical Spirit and form a new band with new members. And then, the distortion sound of the guitar effect was back to slashing my ear. Very loud if I did not ready, I would be deaf, for sure. It was the act of Santos, our lead guitarist. His real name was Sonny, and he was one of the most talented guitarists in Surabaya. He could have played the speed metal guitarist genre a la Yngwie Malmsteen. Santos could also play the heavy metal style, such as Dave Mustaine, Marty Friedman, and Kiko. The last three names were guitarists for Megadeth.

“We’re going to get a badass drummer, and Killian Lee already said he’d be in the band.” Ryan snorted and rolled his eyes. “Yeah, right.” “Who?” I asked. Derek clicked the spacebar on his computer and stopped the playback. “Okay, check this out,” he said. “So this past winter, this English band came through Athens – Gobsmacked. It’s some weird British slang or something. Nobody had ever heard of them, but they played at the Georgia Theater on a Tuesday when it was dead. They were pretty good, but the guitarist was incredible. I mean, fucking astounding. He was this little guy with long, black hair, kind of puffy and messed up, and he just let it hang loose down his back. He was older than th