1989: a story of two misfit kids from mid-west america making it big in the big apple. and in the true sense of the american dream they find themselves in a life of sex, money, drugs, and a little rock n roll too.
warnings: adult content, mature rea...
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April 10th, 1993
Dressed to the nines, they sat in a low-lit restaurant in a private booth in the middle of their 5-course dinner. They spoke about the amazing courses, perfectly arranged morsels topped with caviar or shavings from rare truffles. Still, then, silently, they agreed that the authentic street tacos they had eaten earlier for lunch were better than their first dishes.
Once the storm had cleared, they spent their day strolling around and found themselves at a farmers market and crafts sale. Alma had noticed how relaxed he was in public. He didn't have his head on a swivel like he did in New York City. It was nice to see him leisurely walking about, spending time looking at craft items at various booths, and knowing he didn't have a gun concealed on him.
Bill was talking about some scrap metal skull sculpture he had seen at the market that he regretted not purchasing as she looked out towards the other patrons in the restaurant. While some were dressed nicely, wearing designer clothes as they were, there were a lot of pastels and light colors in the room. She turned to look at Bill and thought they looked like they were celebrating someone's funeral rather than her birthday, which amused her.
"What's the matter?" He said, clocking her curious expression. He stilled his fork as he turned to scan the area of the restaurant she had been looking out at. His lips puckered once he saw it too. "We're yuppies," he said, turning back to her with wide eyes.
Alma lightly laughed. "I mean."
"Yeah. We're everything punks hate now. Posers." He nodded.
"Don't say posers," she said, disgusted by the word. "I don't know. We just grew up," she shrugged. "Now we're in a different lane, but we still stand out against these people."
"They don't know shit," he said, taking a sip of his wine and making Alma laugh. "We deserve to be here just as much as everyone else."
"Yes, I know." She quickly agreed before he started to go on some rant about it.
They had left the restaurant satisfied, and she thanked him for her birthday dinner. Especially because he listened to her when she asked him not to tell the staff that it was her birthday and risk having them sing to her out of obligation in front of the whole restaurant.
Bill began driving to a dive bar. She suggested during dinner that they should go for a few drinks. He had to keep his knowing smile from spreading across his face when she said she wanted to go to The Rooster. He happily agreed because they were going there anyway. Now he didn't have to actively coax it out of her with a feigned conversation about a nightcap. He got a little worried when, in the same breath, she also said that if he didn't want to go, they could pick up Echo early. She looked at him with expectant eyes, wanting him to agree with the latter. Of course, he missed his daughter just as much, and she thought he would choose that.
"Yeah..." he pretended to be in thought. "But I want to spend more time with you." He smiled when he saw hers tug at her lips and gazed down bashfully. The charm worked.
