Lance by Bald K

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Lance picked up his rucksack and suitcase and walked out of his room at Attwell private boarding room and walked out. Lance walked down the oak panelled corridor and made his way down the stairs and handed the key to his room into the lady at reception before making his way over to the car park where his mother was waiting for him.
"Good morning mother," Lance said as he gave his mother a kiss on the cheek.
"Good morning Lance," Lance’s mother replied as Lance placed his bags in the boot of the car before getting into the passenger seat of her BMW sports car.
"I see you have upgraded the car to the latest model," Lance said to his mother.
"The lease on my previous car expired," Lance’s mother replied as she started the engine and drove out of the school car park. "This time next year you will be planning life at university."
"I have to get the grades first," Lance told his mother. "My tutors are pleased with my progress."
"That is good to hear," Lance’s mother said to Lance.
"How is father doing with his business?" Lance asked his mother.
"Doing well," Lance’s mother replied. "He has a meeting with the bank this morning."

Arriving home Lance and his mother got out of the car and walked into the four-bedroom detached house.
"I will go and unpack and grab a shower," Lance told his mother as he walked up the stairs and into his bedroom.
Lance put his clothes into the wardrobe and set up his PlayStation before walking into his ensuite shower room and had a quick shower. Walking out of his shower room Lance styled his long brown hair into his curtain style haircut before pulling on a t-shirt and a pair of jeans before walking down the stairs and into the lounge and switched the tv on and selected sky sports news.
"That’s funny it has come up with you are not subscribing to this channel," Lance thought to himself.
"Mother, I cannot get sky sports on the tv, it is saying that we are not subscribing to the channels," Lance said to his mother.
"We have not cancelled any channels," Lance’s mother replied. "I will call them after we have had lunch."
"I will just see who is at the door," Lance said as he heard the doorbell ring.
"Could I have a signature from you for this letter please," the postman said to Lance.
Sure," Lance replied as he signed the postman’s device and took the letter off him.
"Who was it love?" Lance’s mother asked as Lance walked back into the kitchen.
"The postman had a recorded delivery letter for father," Lance replied.
"He had one of those last week," Lance’s mother sighed. "Said it was a customer sending payment for a job he done."
"I am off to see Alex after lunch, catch up with him and I have an appointment with Alfie to trim my hair tomorrow morning."

Lance made his way to Alex’s home and rang the bell and waited for Alex to answer.
"Hey man when did you get back?" Alex asked Lance as he opened the door.
"Couple of hours ago, what happened to your blond curls?" lance replied as he saw Alex with a number three crop.
"You had better come in mate," Alex said to Lance. "My parents have split, and my father cut my allowance, I now work in the local chippy part time."
"When did that happen?" Lance asked Alex as they made their way to Alex’s bedroom.
"Just after you went back after the easter break," Alex replied. "Father was seeing another woman from his office, and he decided to move in with her."
"That sucks mate," Lance said as he sat down on the edge of Alex’s bed.
"Worse news mate, when I hit eighteen in October we have to sell the house so he can have his share after paying off the mortgage," Alex said as he wiped a tear away. "I cannot even afford to visit Alfie for haircuts."
"Where do you go now? Not one of those Turkish chop shops?" Lance asked Alex.
"Do my own hair mate, usually take it down to a grade one," Alex replied as he took a pair of clippers out of a drawer. "Can I ask you to give me a grade one while you are here?"
"Never given anybody a haircut, but I guess it is not too hard to do a skinhead," Lance replied as he took the clippers off Alex.
"Do it in the kitchen," Alex told Lance as they walked out of his bedroom and made their way to the kitchen.
"How the f*** did you get that tattoo done?" Lance asked Alex as he saw a snake tattoo on his left shoulder.
"Paul at my workplace has a cousin that runs a tattoo studio done it for me," Alex replied. "Get you one if you fancy it."
"I’m cool at the moment," Lance replied.
"Get the hair off my head then," Alex said as he sat down on a stool. "Tell you what do a zero no guard as it is getting warmer."
"Your hair mate," Lance said as he removed the grade one guard and switched the clippers on.
Lance shaved Alex’s head down to a zero crop and ran his hand over the stubble to make sure he had not missed a spot before switching the clippers off and handing them back to Alex.
"Yeah it looks good," Alex said to Lance as he looked in a mirror in the hall. "You want a crop?"
"Nah dude, I have an appointment with Alfie tomorrow morning at ten, could meet up after that if you want," Lance said to Alex.
"Working from midday till we close at ten tomorrow night," Alex replied. "Sunday at my grandparents for lunch."
"Have to arrange a meet up next week then," Lance said to Alex.
"Sounds cool, I better shower and get to work," Alex said to Lance. "Call me and we will work something out.
"Will do," Lance said as he walked out of Alex’s house and made his way home.
"Alex looks so much better with the hair shaved off," Lance thought to himself. "Could I ask Alfie to shave my hair off?

Lance woke the next morning and walked into his ensuite shower room and showered before drying himself.
"Can I do it? Can I ask Alfied to give a close-cropped haircut?" Lance thought to himself. "I could do with a change, but mother loves me long hair."
Lance walked down to the kitchen and saw his mother fussing over how the dishwasher had decided to pack up and the warranty had expired.
"Do yourself some toast if you want some breakfast," Lance’s mother said as she emptied what was in the dishwasher. "I will have to go with your father tomorrow and buy a new one.
"I will get some breakfast in the city before I get my hair trimmed by Alfie," Lance told his mother.
"Take a twenty out of my purse to cover your breakfast," Lance’s mother said to Lance.
Lance took a twenty pound note out his mother’s purse before slipping on his new Nike trainers and walked out of the house and caught the bus into the city. Arriving at a café Lance used called Poppies, Lance walked in and was greeted by a young man with his head virtually shaved smooth, spider web tattoos on his elbows and four small silver rings in his left ear who showed Lance to a table.
"What can I get you to drink?" the young man asked Lance.
"A black coffee and a large breakfast please," Lance told the young man.
"Hey Ciaran see you had them done," a young woman said as she walked out of the kitchen. "Thought you had to be eighteen for ink?"
"Handy having an uncle who owns his own studio," Ciaran grinned. "I will go and put your order through for breakfast," Ciaran told Lance.
"Ciaran looks well smart with the hair like Alex’s and the rings, and ink look pretty cool as well."

Lance thanked Ciaran for the breakfast and walked out of the café and set off for Alfie’s salon with his mind playing tricks with one half saying ditch the curtains and the other half saying don’t upset you mother by going skinhead style. Arriving at Alfie’s salon Lance saw a young man about his age in Alfie’s chair with Alfie finishing off a high razor fade with the top taken down to a grade three.
"Why is everybody I have seen got really short haircuts?" Lance thought to himself as he made his way to the waiting area and sat down.
"Come in through," Alfie said to Lance. "How was school?"
"Fine, if you like being in a prison cell," Lance grinned. "Don’t go back until mid-September for my final year before university."
"You doing ok with your course work?" Alfie asked Lance as he finished washing Lance’s hair before wrapping a towel around Lance’s head and walked over to the barber chair.
"How are cutting this today?" Alfie asked Lance as he towel dried his hair and placed a cape round Lance and secured it.
"Take about an inch off all over, keep it over the ears and collar," Lance told Alfie.
"Not one for fashion trends are you," Alfie grinned as he combed through Lance’s long brown hair.
"Nah, I know this is how I like my hair, until I start going bald in my twenties like the rest of the men in the family," Lance replied. "Why the f*** did I not say skin it or get it cut like the young guy that Alfie has just finished?" Lance thought to himself.
"I will give you a free head shave when that starts," Alfie laughed as he started to cut Lance’s hair.
"I will keep you to that," Lance grinned.
Lance watched as Alfie took about an inch of hair off before blow drying it and removing the cape.
"How does that look?" Alfie asked Lance as he held a hand mirror to show Lance the back of his head.
"Perfect mate," Lance replied. "You are the best stylist in the city."
"Now the bad news, I have had to raise my prices, the new price is twenty-five pounds," Alfie told Lance.
"No problem," Lance replied as he took his bank card out of his wallet and tapped the card on the terminal.
"You need to put the card in," Alfie told Lance. "Must have reached the limit of tapping."
Lance put his card in the terminal and entered his PIN and handed it back to Alfie.
"Sorry Lance, but your bank has declined your card," Alfie said to Lance. "Do you have another way to pay?"
"My monthly allowance should have gone in last week, I will just go to my bank and see what has happened," Lance said to Alfie. "I will be back in Ten minutes."
Lance walked out of Alfie’s salon and walked up the hill into the city centre and walked into his bank.
"Can I help you a young man called Jake asked Lance.
"I have just had my hair trimmed but could not pay as my card was declined," Lance told Jake.
"Let’s take a look at your account," Jake said to Lance. "Please take a seat."
Lance sat down as Jake put in his PIN to access a computer and handed Jake his bank card.
"Could I have the third and seventh letters of your password," Jake asked Lance.
"T and D," Lance told Jake. "There should have been two hundred deposited into my account on the first of the month."
"The last deposit was the first of May, two months ago," Jake told Lance. "You have three pounds forty-seven pence in your account."
"That means my allowance has not gone in for two months," Lance sighed. "Very unusual."
"Sorry, there is nothing I can do," Jake told Lance.
"I will have to withdraw some money from my savings account then," Lance said to Jake.
Lance walked over to a cash machine in the bank and put his card in the slot and put his PIN number in and withdrew fifty pounds before leaving the bank and making his way back to Alfie’s salon and walked in.
"Stupid me, my card expired at the end of last month and I forgot to put my new card in my wallet," Lance lied to Alfie. "Take thirty notes and I will see you soon."
Lance walked out of Alfie’s salon, cursing that he had not had the guts to tell Alfie to give him a skinhead or a high razor fade and made his way to the bus stop and waited for the bus to arrive. A few minutes passed and the bus arrived, and Lance boarded the bus and showed the driver his ticket and sat down at the rear of the bus and stared out of the window.
"If I had got a skinhead or the razor fade what could they have done about it?" Lance thought as he made the journey home.

"Who is that driving mother’s car?" Lance thought to himself as he saw her car being driven by a man in a suit.
Lance walked into the house and made his way to the longe where he saw his mother reading a magazine.
"Who was that driving your car?" Lance asked his mother as he sat down on a sofa.
"The car has been recalled to have a fault they have discovered fixed," Lance’s mother replied. "It should be back on Monday.
"Oh, I see," Lance said. "Do you know why my allowance has not been paid into my bank account for the last two months?"
"You will have to speak to your father about that," Lance’s mother told Lance.
"I will be in my room if you want me." Lance told his mother as he walked out of the lounge and made his way to his bedroom.
"Something isn’t right," Lance thought to himself as he logged onto his SoundCloud account and loaded a track he had recently written called isolation before picking up his bass guitar and started to play along with the track. "Needs more edge and aggression in it," Lance thought to himself as he started to tweak the song.

Lance walked out of his bedroom as he heard his father walking into the house and made his way into the lounge where he saw his father pouring out a whisky before sitting down.
"Father, my allowance has not been paid into my bank account for the last two months," Lance said to his father as he sat down on the sofa.
"I have changed my bank account; I will call them and set up a new standing order to put the money in your bank account." Lance’s father told Lance.
"Could you not transfer the money to my bank account now on your app?" Lance suggested.
"I can transfer a ton now if you need it," Lance’s father said as he picked up his phone and opened his banking app. "All done," Lance’s father said to Lance.
"Thank you," Lance replied as he checked on his banking app to see the money had gone into his account. "Is everything ok?"
"Everything is fine," Lance’s dad lied. "Why do you ask?"
"Friday when I arrived home I could not get sky sports on the TV," Lance told his father. "Mother phoned them and had to pay the bill."
"I told you I have got a new bank account, I must have forgotten to tell them about the change," Lance’s father replied. "I will call them and give them my new bank details."
"As long as everything is ok," Lance said as he walked out of the lounge. "I have a feeling I am not being told the truth," Lance thought to himself as he put his shoes on and made his way back into the city.

Lance arrived home from visiting his friend Taylor and saw a car on the driveway he did not recognise. Thinking nothing of it guessing his parents had visitors Lance walked into the house and heard voices in the lounge.
"What is going on?" Lance asked his parents as he walked into the lounge where he saw two men dressed in dark suits sitting on the sofa with his parents in armchairs.
"Take a seat, I have something to tell you," Lance’s father told Lance.
Lance sat down and saw that one of the gentlemen had a folder open with paperwork inside it.
"Son, the house is being repossessed," Lance’s father told Lance. "The bank has declared me bankrupt."
"What? How?" lance replied with a look of shock on his face.
"My business was struggling and in heavy debt," Lance’s father told Lance. "I took a large loan out secured on the house."
"Your father has defaulted on the loan and has made no payments in the last four months," one of the gentlemen told Lance. "Despite the letters sent by the bank, the last one setting out that if no payments were made they would start proceedings to repossess the property."
"Is that what they letter told you on Friday?" Lance asked his father. "Is that why your car was taken away on Saturday?" Lance asked his mother. "Was it repossessed?"
"It was repossessed," Lance’s father told Lance. "I defaulted on payments for the car."
"What happens next?" Lance asked the gentlemen.
"This is the repossession notice, you have seven days to vacate the property," one of the gentlemen told Lance.
"What about my school fees? How are you going to pay them!" Lance shouted at his father.
"You will not be going back for the final year; you will have to enrol at the local sixth form college." Lance’s father told Lance. "Your monthly allowance will also cease."
"F***ing great! Not going to finish my education at Attwell, no f***ing allowance! Anything else you need to tell me?" Lance shouted at his father.
"The council have allocated us a two-bedroom flat on the Melbourne estate," Lance’s mother told Lance.
"The Melbourne!" Lance shouted. "A two-bedroom flat!"
"It will only be temporary until I get back on my feet," Lance’s father tried to reassure Lance. "I will soon find a job that pays well."
"I guess I had better start looking for a job if I want to keep my appearance," Lance sighed. "I am off out of here."
Lance walked out of the lounge and got his phone out and called Alex.
"Dude can we meet up?" Lance asked Alex as he answered his phone. "I need somebody to talk to."
"Come on over to my place," Alex told Lance. "I am not working until five this evening."
"See you in ten," Lance replied before ending the call. "The f***ing Melbourne that has a s*** reputation," lance thought to himself as he slipped his shoes on and walked out of the house and started walking to Alex’s home.

"What’s up dude?" Alex asked Lance as he opened the door. "Come on in."
"Father’s business has gone to the wall, he took out a massive loan secured against the house and we are now being kicked out," Lance told Alex as he wiped away a tear.
"Where will you be living?" Alex asked Lance.
"We have been allocated a flat on the Melbourne," Lance told Alex.
"That s***hole," Alex said. "That has a reputation for being a rough area."
"Tell me about it," Lance sighed.
"You might have to make some changes if you want to fit in there," Alex told Lance.
"Maybe," Lance replied. "You have a spare room here, maybe I could move in with you?"
"Sorry mate, my bro has split with his bird and is moving back in," Alex told Lance. "Otherwise, you would have been welcome to move in."
"I also got told to find a job as my allowance is being axed," Lance sighed. "Any jobs going at your place?"
"Dude, you will be the other side of the city, you would have a long walk home," Alex told Lance.
"I had not thought about that," Lance admitted. "Also, I have to enrol at the local sixth form college for my final year before university."
"College has got a good reputation for getting excellent grades," Alex reassured Lance. "Can I get you a drink?"
"Got any beers?" Lance grinned. "Need a beer really."
"There you go man," Alex said as he got a beer out of the fridge and handed it to Lance. "Just need to take this call. "Hi boss what is up?" Alex asked as he answered his phone.
"Need you do a drop, no questions," Alex’s boss told Alex. "I will text you the order and drop off point."
"Yes boss, what time do you want me?" Alex asked his boss.
"It will be in the text I am about to send you," Alex’s boss told Alex.
"Ok see you soon," Alex said before ending the call.
"New phone?" Lance asked Alex.
"Contract expired got a new phone and contract," Alex lied as the text came through saying what the order was and where to deliver it at what time. "Got to go mate," I will call you and buy you lunch soon."
"Yeah ok mate, catch you soon," Lance sighed as he finished his beer.
Alex let Lance out of the house before going into his bedroom and unlocked a drawer and took out the drug order before locking the drawer and walking out of the house and cycling off.

Lance packed the last of his clothes into a box and took the box downstairs and out to the car and placed the box in the boot of the car along with his other possessions including his bass guitar and amp. Lance sighed as he saw the sign outside the house saying that it was being sold by auction to recover the money Lance’s dad owed the bank. To make things worse Lance’s father made the front page of the local newspaper with the headline local businessman goes bankrupt owing thousands of pounds.
"This is it then," Lance’s father said as he closed the door for the final time before handing over the keys to the man from the bank before climbing into the car and started the engine.
Lance watched as his father pulled off the drive and started the drive to the Melbourne estate to move into the flat they had been allocated. After a short drive Lance’s father pulled into a parking space outside Adelaide house and turned off the engine before getting out of the car along with Lance.
"Nice car mister hope you have got somewhere to lock it up," a teenager with a skinhead crop said to Lance’s father. "Who’s the pretty boy with you?"
"The car is a hire car," Lance’s father lied as he knew he had to take the car back to the dealership he leased the car from.
"My name is Lance," Lance told the skinhead.
"We are on the third floor in flat five," Lance’s father told Lance.
"Great," Lance replied as he took a box out of the boot of the car and walked into the lobby of the flats and groaned when he saw that the lift was out of order.
Lance walked up the stairs to the third floor and found the flat they had been allocated and walked in to see his mother unpacking a box in the kitchen.
"Your room is next to the bathroom," Lance’s mother told Lance.
"F***, it’s half the size of my old bedroom and no f***ing ensuite shower room," Lance said to himself as he put the box on his bed. "And it is a shared toilet and shower room."
Lance got his remaining stuff out of the boot of the car before going to his bedroom and started to unpack.
"This is so humiliating," Lance thought to himself as he set up his Play Station before realising that he had no access to the internet until they got connected on Wednesday. "My payment for my phone is due, I need to have some more cash to cover that," Lance sighed before going into the kitchen.
"Mother, is it possible to have fifty to cover my phone bill?" Lance asked. "I spent the ton father gave me on a couple of Tommy polo shirts."
"You will have to find yourself a job," Lance’s mother said as she got her phone out and transferred the money over. "We are going to struggle with only my money coming in from my cleaning work."
"I will try the local shops in the morning," Lance promised his mother. "What are we doing for food today?"
"Your father has gone to the supermarket to get food for the next couple of days," Lance’s mother replied.
"I will go and finish unpacking then," Lance said to his mother.

Lance walked into the kitchen to see his mother preparing the evening meal. Lance noticed that the big brand labels he had been used to had been replaced by the supermarkets own brands, the fish, and chips instead of being cod had been replaced by a white fish in batter, and the chips were the supermarkets own brand.
"What is the starter?" Lance asked his mother.
"You will not be getting a starter or dessert except on a Sunday," Lance’s mother said to Lance as she took the tray out of the oven and split the food between Lance and his father before putting her evening meal in the oven.
Lance picked up his tray and walked into the lounge and sat on the sofa and started to eat his meal.
"This tastes so bland," Lance thought to himself as he ate a piece of the fish.
Lance finished his meal and rinsed his plate before putting it in the bowl in the sink. Lance returned to his bedroom where he picked up his notebook of songs he had written and found a blank page and started to write a song he titled ‘burnt soul.’
"I watch, god laughs as I watch my soul being burnt," Lance wrote in the notebook. "I watch the fire as it consumes my soul, I watch as my soul is burnt to ashes."
Lance continued to flesh out the song and chorus before picking up his bass guitar and tried to put music to the lyrics. As Lance wrote the song Lance heard loud music outside the block of flats.
"F*** they look like don’t mess with me boys," Lance thought to himself as he looked out of the window to see a group of six teenagers with hair shaved close to the scalp with denim jackets and doc marten boots on.
Lance closed the curtains in his bedroom before going through his notebook of songs and started to change lyrics to make them have a rougher edge before laying on his bed and falling asleep.

Lance walked out of the flat and started to make his way down the stairs when he met one of the skinheads he saw the previous night, his hair cropped down to a zero like Alex had his, and had a ladder of five silver rings in his left ear, the skinheads jacket had frayed badges on and the boots were oxblood doc marten with a shine on that you could see your face in them.
"You moved into flat five on level three?" The skinhead said to Lance as he blew cigarette smoke into Lance’s face.
"Moved in yesterday," Lance told the skinhead.
"Do yourself a favour, lose the hair and the designer s***," the skinhead told Lance as he took a drag on the cigarette. "You look like you are a model, and you will be a prime target looking like you do."
"Yeah, whatever," Lance replied as he shrugged his shoulders. "I could do with a new hairstyle I guess," Lance thought as he looked at the skinheads near shaved head.
"Believe me, you will regret it if you don’t change your look," the skinhead warned Lance as he stubbed out the cigarette butt with the sole of his boot. "I am on level four flat two look me up."
Lance watched as the skinhead pushed past him and walked up the stairs as Lance made his way down to the entrance lobby and walked out, making his way to the parade of shops and asking if they had any vacancies. The first three shops all told Lance no vacancies then lance walked into the small supermarket and asked a young man if they had vacancies.
"I will just go and get the manager," the young man told Lance.
"I understand you are looking for work," the manager said to Lance.
"I have just moved here and need a job," Lance replied.
"Come on through, I will give you an interview now," the manager told Lance.
Lance followed the manager through to his office and sat down in a chair as the manager started the interview.
"We have a vacancy, it is twenty-four hours a week with a chance of extra hours," the manager told Lance. "Pay is monthly and is the minimum wage, you would be expected to work a variety of shifts."

"I am pleased to say that you passed the interview and have got the job," the manager told Lance.
"When would you want me to start?" Lance asked the manager.
"This afternoon, one till seven," the manager told Lance.
"I will be here," Lance told the manager.
"Bring proof of who you are and your bank details," the manager told Lance.
"I will bring my passport in," Lance told the manager before walking out of the supermarket.

"What are you doing here pretty boy?" The skinhead who lived in the same block of flats said as Lance walked into the supermarket,
"I work here as from this afternoon," Lance told the skinhead. "What about you?"
"I work here pretty boy," the skinhead told Lance. "Looks like we will be working together."
"Looks that way," Lance replied. "I need to give my bank details to the manager.
"I will take you to his office," The skinhead said to Lance. "Follow me."
Lance followed the skinhead through the storeroom and knocked on the manager’s door before walking in and showed him his passport before handing over his bank details.
"Thank you for that," the manager said to Lance. "I will let Dylan show you the ropes and how to use the till."
"Come on then pretty boy," Dylan said to Lance. "What’s your name?"
"Lance," Lance replied.
Dylan showed Lance round the storeroom and how to rotate the stock before showing Lance how to use the till.
"How old are you?" Dylan asked Lance.
"I will be eighteen at the start of September," Lance told Dylan.
"If you serve alcohol or cigarettes you will have to get a supervisor for clearance," Dylan told Lance.
"No problem," Lance replied.

Lance scanned his card at the end of his shift and walked out of the supermarket and looked over the road the pub and walked over to see they were having an open mic night the following night at the pub.
"May have a go at that," Lance thought as he started to make his way back to the block of flats. As Lance arrived at the block of flats Lance saw a couple of skinheads in the doorway blocking the entrance.
"Well, what do we have here?" One of the skinheads with a ladder of five rings in his ear and spider web tattoos on his elbows said to Lance. "Don’t you look nice with your long hair and designer clothes."
"What is a pretty boy like you doing living here?" The other skinhead with the same piercings and tattoos said to Lance.
"Circumstances," Lance replied. "Now if you would excuse me I need to get in."
"Don’t you speak posh, pretty boy," one of the skinheads said to Lance. "If I was you I would drop the posh pretty boy image, don’t want to be attacked do you?"
"Look please just let me into the flats," Lance pleaded with the skinheads as he realised one was the one that worked in the café. "You work in poppies café," Lance said to Ciaran.
"Please let me into the flats," one of the skinheads mocked putting a posh voice on. "Give him a haircut to remember us by.
One of the skinheads pinned Lance to the wall as the other skinhead took a pair of cordless clippers out of his jacket pocket.
"Go on then do it, force me to get a haircut like yours," Lance thought to himself as the skinhead switched the clippers on and approached Lance. "Please not the hair," Lance cried.
"Oi Tommy, leave Lance alone, I have given him a warning about losing the hair and clothes."
"What the f*** are you doing sticking up for posh boy?" Tommy said to Dylan. "He needs to learn the code, get the look."
"He will," Dylan told Tommy. "Now scarper I will catch you in an hour for a pint."
"Don’t bring your new pretty boy mate with you," Tommy said to Dylan as he walked off with the other skinhead. "Will not be so lucky next time pretty boy," Tommy told Lance.
"Let’s get you inside," Dylan said to Lance. "Come up to my flat and we can chat."
Lance followed Dylan to his flat and walked into the lounge where Lance saw a battered old sofa and armchair along with a guitar and amp.
"Take a seat," Dylan told Lance as he took his work fleece off to reveal spider webs on both elbows. "This morning was a friendly warning; this evening Tommy would have given you workover after shaving your hair off along with Ciaran."
"Just because of the way I have my hair and my clothes?" Lance asked Dylan.
"Pretty much, they only see life from a skinhead perspective." Dylan told Lance as he took a cigarette out of a pack and offered lance one. "We are part of the Melbourne crew, teenagers with attitude."
"Why the skinhead look?" Lance asked Dylan as he lit the cigarette Dylan had given him.
"Easy to maintain and a symbol of defiance," Dylan replied. "There are about a dozen of us in the crew."
"Whatever," Lance sighed.
"Spill on why you have moved to the Melbourne," Dylan said to Lance as he took a drag on his cigarette.
"My father’s business went bust and he had secured a massive loan on the house," Lance told Dylan as he exhaled cigarette smoke. "Bank declared father bankrupt and repossessed the house."
"That sucks," Dylan said as he walked into the kitchen and walked back with two cans of beer and handed one to Lance.
"How come you are living here alone?" Lance asked Dylan.
"My father regularly beat me until one night I fought back," Dylan told Lance. "I packed my bags and was homeless for a week before the council put me in here."
"The skinhead haircut and tattoos?" Lance asked Dylan.
"Got involved with the crew and got the haircut, tattoos and earrings were my own choice," Dylan replied as he went into the bathroom and returned with a pair of cordless clippers. "Want in do you?"
"Don’t know," Lance replied as he took a drag on the cigarette.
"Look mate, you got lucky tonight, I am not going to be around all the time to protect you," Dylan told Lance. "This is my final warning, ditch the curtains and clothes before you get done over."
"We will see," Lance said as he finished his beer and cigarette before making his way down to his flat where he saw his parents in the lounge.
"How was work?" Lance’s father asked.
"It was ok," Lance replied. "Did you find anything?"
"Put my name down with a few agencies," Lance’s father told Lance. "Have you been smoking?"
"Dylan who lives on the next level smokes and I was in his flat, I will see you in the morning, I am going to grab a shower," Lance told his parents as he walked out of the lounge and into the bathroom.
"Ditch the hair, lose the clothes," Lance heard Dylan say over and over again as he stared at his reflection in the cracked mirror on the wall before getting in the shower.

The next day Lance did not leave the house until the evening when he picked up his guitar and made his way over to the partners pub and walked in. Lance put his name down to do a few songs before walking to the bar and ordered a coke before sitting down.
"Well, if it isn’t the pretty boy," Tommy said as he walked over. "Going to do some songs are we?"
"Bet they have no rawness or energy to them," Ciaran said to Lance.
"Wait and see," Lance said to Ciaran and Tommy as Dylan walked in.
"See you have not heeded my warning," Dylan said to Lance. "Watch your back when you walk home."
"The next act is Lance White," a man said into the microphone.
Lance stood up and walked over to the stage and plugged his guitar into the amp along with his laptop and accessing his Sound Cloud account.
"Thank you, the first track is called faded dreams," Lance told the audience.
Lance launched into the track with the new raw edge he had put in. "We all have dreams that fade with time, fade into distant memories," Lance sang.
"F*** he is pretty good," Tommy said to Dylan. "Did not expect heavy bass riffs along with heavy synths and drums."
"Pity he has the pretty boy hair and clothes," Ciaran said. "If he ditched the look for a rougher look it would fit perfectly."
Lance played a couple more tracks which the skinheads were impressed with before announcing his final song for the night.
"My final track is not quite finished," Lance told the audience. "I only wrote the lyrics two days ago and the music yesterday, the track is called burnt soul.
"I arrive dead at the gates of heaven where god waits laughing, my soul lives until god calls me over and rips my soul from my body and tosses it into the firepit, I hear god laugh as I am forced to watch as my soul burns and all that is left is ashes and my burnt soul," Lance sang in an aggressive manner with heavy bass lines and synths.
Lance thanked the audience before unplugging his guitar and walking back to his table.
"F***, here comes another warning or they are going to say how s*** my songs were," Lance thought to himself as Dylan and Tommy walked over."
"That was some set," Dylan said as he sat down next to Lance. "Only problem is your look."
"You need a rougher image," Tommy told Lance. "Also, we are looking for a new lead vocalist and bass guitar player since Mac quit on us and moved to Spain."
"We could integrate your songs with ours and work on new music together," Dylan suggested to Lance. "What do you say?"
"Are you serious about me joining your band?" Lance asked Dylan.
"Dead serious," Dylan replied as Ciaran walked over with a tray with four pints of beer on it.
"What would you say if Lance becomes our new lead singer and bass guitarist?" Tommy asked Ciaran.
"Would need to shed the posh boy image," Ciaran replied. "Cannot have a lead vocalist and bass player with that haircut and posh clothes."
"Want to be in with us? Give you a reason to ditch the posh boy look?" Tommy said as he handed Lance a pint of beer.
"Can I think about it and give you my answer tomorrow?" Lance asked Dylan.
"Are you working tomorrow?"" Dylan asked Lance.
"Early shift, finish at midday," Lance told Dylan.
"You have until then to make your mind up," Dylan replied. "You finish your shift then you come up to my flat."
"I will do that, by the way I am not old enough to drink in a pub yet," Lance told Dylan.
"Jack is one of us, he will not mind you drinking the odd pint," Tommy told Lance.
"We are having a sesh at the warehouse tomorrow at seven," Ciaran told Lance. "You want in think seriously about shedding the curtains and designer clothes.
"I will think about it," Lance replied as he took a mouthful of beer. "Maybe this could be a way of shedding my posh private schoolboy look for a new look," Lance thought to himself.

Lance walked out of the supermarket at the end of his shift and saw Dylan leaning against a car waiting for him.
"Decision time," Dylan said to Lance as he lit up a cigarette and offered Lance one.
"I have always dreamed of being in a rock band," Lance said as he lit the cigarette. "Last night all I could think about was what you said in the pub."
"You have not given me your answer," Dylan said to Lance as they walked back to his flat. "Told you it was decision time when you finished work."
"I will do it," Lance told Dylan. "You are right it is time I ditched my pretty boy image."
"Good choice," Dylan replied as he opened the door to his flat. "No going back to what changes I decide to do on you."
"It is what I want, I need to shed this private schoolboy image," Lance said as he followed Dylan into the kitchen where Lance saw a battered chair in the centre of the room next to a table where clippers were laying on.
"Strip your shirt then pretty boy," Dylan told Lance. "Take a seat and we will start on your new look."
Lance hesitated for a few seconds before pulling off his works polo shirt and sat down on the chair as Dylan picked up the clippers and switched them on.
"Ready?" Dylan asked. "No last minute changing your mind?"
"Just do it," Lance told Dylan.
"These balding clippers take the really close to the scalp," Dylan told Lance.
Dylan gently pushed Lance’s head forward and ran the clippers up the back of his head depositing over four inches of hair onto Lance’s chest. Lance felt the clippers removing more hair from the back of his head with the hair sliding silently into his lap. Dylan then moved to the sides and shaved them before shaving the top. Dylan checked he had not missed a spot before turning the clippers off and placing them on the table.
"Now you still look like a posh boy with a zero-skinhead crop," Dylan said to Lance.
"I cannot afford new clothes until I get my first pay packet from work," Lance said to Dylan.
"Good job you are about my size for clothes," Dylan grinned. "What size boot do you take?"
"Size nine," Lance told Dylan.
"I will be back in a minute," Dylan told Lance as he walked out of the kitchen and made his way into his bedroom. Dylan picked up a box from the bottom of his wardrobe and an old pair of cherry docs and made his way back into the kitchen where he saw Lance standing in just his boxer shorts.
"Thought I may as well strip off the clothes ready to complete the makeover you are doing on me," Lance told Dylan.
"Must admit you look pretty fit for a posh boy," Dylan told Lance as he rummaged through the box and found a black Ben Sherman shirt and a pair of red braces before finding a pair of football socks and some camo pants and handed them to Lance. "This will do for a start," Dylan told Lance as he handed Lance the clothes. "Put the clothes on and I will show you how to lace the boots."
"I was captain of the under eighteens rugby team," Lance told Dylan as he pulled on the polo shirt followed by the football sock and the camo pants.
"Sit," Dylan told Lance as he picked up the boots.
Dylan sat down on the battered sofa and watched as Dylan slid on the boots and expertly laced them.
"Go and take a look in the mirror on my wardrobe," Dylan told Lance. "Say hello to the new you."
Dylan walked out of the lounge and walked into Dylan’s bedroom and looked at a person he did not recognize in the mirror. The long brown curtain hairstyle had gone, it had been replaced by a brown stubble that was barely visible, the designer Pierre Cardin shirt was now a black Ben Sherman polo shirt, the designer Jeans were now camo pants held up by the red braces and his expensive trainers were now battered fourteen eyelet doc marten boots.
"I look so different," Lance thought to himself as he rubbed the stubble on his freshly shorn head. "I look different, and I don’t know why I actually like it."
"How does the posh boy like his skinhead look?" Dylan asked as he walked into the bedroom.
"It was a bit of a shock when I first saw my new look in the mirror, but yeah, I like it," Lance told Dylan.
"Get used to it," Dylan told Lance. "Still a bit more work to get done."
"I had better get back down to my parents and see what they say about the new Lance," Lance said to Dylan. "What time are we meeting up for the sesh as you call it?"
"Meet in the foyer at six, bring your guitar and amp with you," Dylan told Lance.

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