[i] ☼ ○ ▬
I owe a debt to some kind of suburban crime lord. Standing
at the front door of his house. I fumble through wads of cash and hand some of
it over to a man. Upon second thought I grab some of it back and say, “Fuck
this! I’m not giving you all my money.” I walk off down the street in the
vicinity of the oceanfront in Virginia Beach. I pass a block where a building
has just been demolished and the pile of rubble is hard to ignore. Later, I’m
in the living room of the crime lord’s house, which is also understood to be my
place of residence. There’s an uncertain amount of money locked away in a black
briefcase to which I’m the only one with the lock combination. But I forgot it
off the top of my head so I’m searching desperately in my phone’s memos for it.
I’m hoping to take back the money I gave earlier.
▬ ○ ☼
Waking up just before 2 p.m.
Strawberry Toaster Pastries. Orange Juice.
I have the pleasure of seeing Aysena’s face on Skype.
Grilled Cheese with Tomato and Hummus. Potato Chip Trio.
Honey Oolong Tea.
There’s a big show tonight happening at a new DIY space
called That’s How I Beat Shaq, or The Shaq for short, just off Witchduck Road.
It’s the opening night actually. Rusty asked Musicplayer to do a set. I grab
Kevin, Anthony, and Kelley and we arrive on site. This place is reminiscent of
Concrete, the space that Stephanie had running for a while. It’s packed to the
brim with a diverse demographic, from angsty teen punks to raging hipsters.
Mingling around and sharing conversation. Just another hazy social evening.
Rachel arrives with Minnie, a new friend of hers. At some point Rachel gets
hurt pretty bad. She had ran up innocently to Kevin and jumped on him for a
hug. Kevin, in all his drunken clumsiness, manages to trip over with Rachel
underneath. I watch her head slam into the asphalt. She’s so fragile and it’s
already enough that she hurts easily. She’s in agony lying on the ground. I
help her up and tend to her morale while Kevin apologizes as sincerely as he
can in his rambunctious state of mind. I’ve got Rachel propped up in the
passenger seat of Carmen’s car with my arm wrapped around her pretending to be
her father. Even though she can be melodramatic, which everyone notices, I know
she is really hurting. Her body isn’t in any kind of condition to
withstand these kinds of incidents.
The night moves on and I’ve got a set to perform. Inside
it’s hot and crammed. All of my friends are more than supportive by offering
loud obnoxious chants. It doesn’t matter that it’s just me and an acoustic
guitar, they all shuffle their feet and shake their bodies; they sing along,
but overreaching the volume of my voice through the PA speakers.
Anthony approaches me after, “Easily, the best Musicplayer
show right?”
Me: “Well, not because of me. Because of you
guys!”
There’re more bands to go. I join in on the moshing and
crowd surfing. I make pretty good friends with Minnie. At some point I walk
with her to the 7-11 to buy pain relievers. She’s almost the same height as
Rachel, and both just as cute. We talk about our lives while trying to avoid
the rushing cars underneath the overpass. She also delves into the world of the
arts. Along the way I find a dead pigeon. I wrap it up in plastic bags to give
to Rachel cause I know she’d love to use it in an art piece. Come to find out,
Wheeler decided to take Rachel to the emergency room just to be sure there
wasn’t a fracture on her leg. I stop by for moral support and to make sure she
gets the dead bird, which she’s thrilled about. Turns out it wasn’t a fracture
but only a tissue bruise. The hospital gives her a prescription for painkillers
and a pair of crutches.
Back home.
Spaghetti with Onions, Mushrooms, and Marinara Sauce.
Sleep around 4 a.m.
[i] Photos by
Richie Howard.
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