the good old days - THE STROKES

Part Thirty - No Idea

""One baby to another says "I'm lucky to have met you". I don't care what you think unless it is about me."", the radio is loud as Dad plays his CD at full volume. He does this because he says that 'the sports commentator speaks like a fucking pussy', which means he really doesn't like it, I think.

It's all I hear as I enter our house for the first time in two years after living with John and his family. It felt like forever. Not in a bad way, but like, a really good way. I liked living with him and all of them. John stands by me me, his hand on my shoulder as we walk into the lounge room and I see my father. His face like a memory, and the house, except with some changes. He's sitting on his chair, beer bottles circling him and smoking a cigarette. John's hand lets go of me, he goes to Mom and pulls her out of the room. "You must be fucking crazy if you think I'm just going to leave her here with you when he's like that."

"You promised me, John. He's clean alright, he's fucking clean just like you wanted. So what if he drinks and smokes?! God knows, you ask for too much. It's too much."

"Look around , this place is a bloody mess.", he says, looking around at the piles of newspapers and cigarette butts on the lounge room floor.

I run forward, to the couch, to my father. "Daddy?", I want him to see me, I haven't seen him since as long as I can remember.

His big arm comes down to me, "Maya...", I think he's going to hug me. "Maya, you're in the way.", his arm shoves me from his view of the TV. I look back to John, my eyes bubbling up. The room is shaking in my sight as I feel the water drip from my face but he's not there. When I find him, John's outside, on the porch, Mom is with him, hitting her hands on his chest.

"Just get out-", she screams at him, her voice failing as she pushes all her energy against him, "Just fucking go, John.". He's crying, she's crying, I'm crying.

John throws her hands off of him, "Fine... fine, Lucy.", he looks over to the house and sees me in the window, "Let me say goodbye at least.". She nods once, all quiet. I meet John at the door as he drops to his knees so he's the same height as me, wrapping his arms around me.

"Please don't leave me here.", I whimper against his shirt, "I can go with you. I'll be good, I promise.".

He looks at me, eyes damp with his own tears, "This isn't your fault, Maya. If it was up to me, you would stay with me and my family until you got sick of us.", he smiles sadly. "But it's not up to me...", his eyes wander to the lounge room, "That man in there, he's not your father, anyone who treats a child like that is no parent.".

I wrap my hand in the fabric of his shirt, tugging him, "Please don't go, you can be my dad.", I squeal.

He laughs at this. "Yes... but no.", he whispers as Mom comes next to me.

"Hurry up, John.", she tells him.

John pulls me quickly into one more hug, "Goodbye, Maya. I'm coming back for you.", he gets up.

I am scared so I  grip at his arm, "No!!", I want to scream but I know that's for naughty girls only.

"Remember, I'll be back." And just like that, he's gone. And just like that, everything is back to how it was before.

━━━━━━ ◦ ❖ ◦ ━━━━━━

New York City.
Thursday, June 5th, 1997. Morning.
Julian

Nick has been a wreck since whatever happened a few days ago between him and the girl he was seeing. It reminds me of myself, to be honest.

When she- Maya- left. And then when Maya left again. It's better to say her name, even just thinking it, it takes away the emotions that was once there. It was just one night, Albert told me this a few months back, it didn't have to mean anything. This was before what happened in the elevator of course, but I think about it constantly. I tell myself that he was right, even after the fight in the elevator, after her "fuck you", after it all. I know that I feel a hell of a lot. I'm just not sure right now what of, but I've been doing better recently than how I did to cope with this wake up call before. Better than what Nick is doing right now, rotting away being sad and angry and desperate.

Something shook him, rattled him a bit, I can tell. He just won't speak to anyone about it, says that it's not his business to talk about.

He lies on the couch of Fab and mine's apartment. Nick's break up had the perfect timing at least, as Albert and his on and off girlfriend got back together again. And the couch was empty for around two nights before Nick decided to make it his rest place until this whole thing blows over. So again, the couch is occupied and I now have to make coffee for three of us. I pass Fab his mug and place Nick's on the coffee table, well, I shouldn't call it a coffee table. It's a crate really, something that Fab saw in the street and thought was cool. So I placed Nick's coffee on the crate and nudged him awake. Fab sat at the small cushion space available between Nick's cranked up legs and the couch end, looking over at me. I nod, knowing that we need to talk.

I nudge Nick again, "Wake up, man. Just for a second, it's important.", I tell him. He squirms under my touch, nodding. "Are you awake?". He nods again, eyes closed shut.

Fab slaps his legs and Nick's eyes shoot open, "Alright!", he puts his hands up, getting up from his sleep. "I'm awake, what is it?", Nick asks.

Fab finds his voice, "If you need to stay here for a bit just tell us? Alright?", Nick rolls over to see him. "Look, we just got Albert out of this already cramped as it is apartment but if you need to crash here for longer it's okay. You just need to tell us, you can't just lay here and pretend like you don't exist.".

Nick groans, "Okay..."

...

"... I need to stay here but, just, for a few more days.", he pushes out, "Please?", he adds a few seconds later.

I slap Nick's back, "All good, man. But call your boss or something, before you get fired.", I hand him the phone. He groans again.

We leave him to call who he needs to, Fab and I going over to his room. As we enter, Fab's obsessive cleanness is made clear just through the shift of stink to the clear air of his bedroom. The only thing that could qualify as a mess would be a pair of jeans on the floor next to his laundry basket, a missed throw, which makes my room like Hiroshima post-Little Boy in comparison. He sits on the end of his bed and I stand leaning against his dresser, facing him. Due to how fucking small our apartment is and even though the dresser and bed are against opposite walls of the room, our feet are basically touching.

"It's good we spoke to him now, before he- you know.", Fab cuts himself off.

"Before he turned into me.", I finish his sentence for him.

He looks up at me, "I guess so.".

I nod. I deserve it, I put Fab through hell in the first weeks after Maya and then the past months since the elevator incident. But he was there for me, he was my roommate and my friend. "I'm never gonna be like that again.", I tell him, as a promise. "No matter what, no girl, no Dad, no drugs, no nothing will make me be like how I was again.".

"Say whatever you want but you gotta do the shit you say.".

I pick at my finger, "I am. Clean from H. Haven't touched that shit in weeks. Taking up more shifts at the bar. Dad and I are good now, I've been doing errands and shit for him. And guess what?", I ask Fab, a little bit of smugness dripping from my voice.

I see him roll his eyes through his messy long black hair, "Just tell me.".

"I'm seeing this girl tonight. A date.", I smile.

His eyes light up, "Well shit, man!", Fab pulls himself up and props himself on his dresser next to me, nudging me with his elbow. "Name?".

"Nina. She was at the bar last night while I was working and I just asked her out.", I tell him. Well, she asked me out, but Fab doesn't need to know all that.

"Good... that's real good, Jules.", he smiles, before pausing seriously all of a sudden. "Just... don't have a one night stand, you know, with your experience.", he adds stifling off a chuckle.

"Hey! Fuck you, Fab.", I bump him, laughing, before shaking my head and walking over to leave his room.

He calls out as I'm down the hallway, "I'm serious, though,", Fab coughs, clearing his throat after choking from laughing at his own joke.