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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May 1993
The Seattle Police were outside Sheisty Sound Records, trying to disperse the lingering crowd outside. The band was long gone, but the buzz and excitement persisted among the concertgoers. Flashing red and blue lights from the police cars on the road were yielding traffic to pedestrians. After the Wayward Sons left with a thick envelope of untaxed cash, those who were left were the employees.
Bill and Alma had been eating cold pepperoni pizza from Vons by the cash wrap. The mozzarella had congealed into a solid piece, and the bread had been steeping in grease, but they were so hungry they didn't care.
"Okay, the teens left with their rides," Darby said, locking the shop door behind himself when he reentered. "The cops got a big chunk of the crowd to leave. Everyone ready to go?"
"Yeah, I'll see you guys later," Alma said as she placed her camera and the camcorder Gregory kindly operated in her backpack before slinging it on. "We have the baby, so you all have a good time."
"Where are they going?" Bill asked as he carefully switched his sleeping daughter to his other arm.
"The Rooster," Ash answered, overhearing him.
"Oh..." Darby frowned regretfully. He wasn't thinking when he suggested they all go for a drink after the show. "Uhm, well..." he looked down at his fiancee, who looked surprised at his inconsideration. "Maybe let's go back to our place."
"You're so much farther away, though," Matt whined, unable to read the room.
"It's okay, guys. We–"
"Alma, you can–"
Bill and Alma spoke over top of each other and paused, sharing a look for the other to talk.
"Darby and I have a guest room Echo can sleep in." Jennifer sweetly offered.
"Let's just go for one drink," Bill said carefully to Alma, knowing she would like one.
"Out of everyone here, you deserve a drink the most," Darby chuckled. "Matt said the band left like two cases of beer."
"They're cold too," Matt added, fixing the short sleeve he had over a long-sleeve shirt.
"Uh alright. Yeah, let's go." Alma smiled.
She was happy to hang out with them after a work event for a change. Darby hadn't forgotten that she had her daughter in tow, but rather, they all just really stopped asking her to go out in general. They'd always ask, and she'd say no. As her excuse of having to go home to her kid became repetitive and known slowly, their invites became few and far between. She'd sneak a drink after work here or there at the small tavern up the road from work and leave right after, but that was usually no fun for them or her.
...
Ulyssa had caught a ride with Alma and Bill and was sitting in the backseat with Echo, listening to their light banter. Echo had woken up a little when she was settled into her car seat but quickly fell back asleep with the rumble of the tires on the road and the engine's hum.
