THE RISE AND FALL OF SMASH ALLEY! (ORIGINAL!)

chapter one ─ city of angels (and demons)

───── ACT ONE, CHAPTER ONE ─────
City of Angels (and Demons)

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I walk outside and the summer air immediately hit me. Not only is it hot, but it's humid. It makes me immediately regret my decision of going outside to take a smoke break. I didn't even bother to look at the time to see what it said. I would just have to calculate my time wisely. It was only fifteen minutes anyways. That's just enough for me to smoke and come back. If I don't mindlessly wander the alley for an additional ten minutes. Daisy said I always had a bad habit of doing that.

I take out the pack of Newports and put it in between my lips. I fumble for the purple lighter that always gets lost in my pockets every now and again. God, why are these pockets so big? Better yet, why did I wear my jacket out here knowing that it's eighty fucking degrees outside?

I finally find the lighter I've been looking for. That took about three and a half minutes. Which means I have twelve minutes to smoke this cigarette and get back in there. I light the cigarette, I take a puff, putting the cigarette in between my fingers again. I let the smoke out. Pure bliss. For a while, I forget where I'm at. What I'm surrounded by. It's not so bad, but the City of Angels wasn't perfect. A lot of weird shit goes on around here.

But then again ... There's a lot of weird shit everywhere.

I've had my fair share of weirdos. And I'm not talkin' about just homeless people rummaging around for food or the usual prostitute roaming around on the streets. No, I mean other things. Creatures that a lot of people think don't exist. But trust me, if they're in my home country, they're here, too. And ma told me to always look out for 'em. It's the one piece of advice from my parents that I follow.

I take another puff from the cigarette. I'm caught off guard by something. I hear a bunch of moaning and groaning. Some chick crying out the name, Taylor. Working at the club so long, I didn't need to look to know what was going on next to me. But, instinctively, my head turned anyway, and it was just as I suspected. Some dude fucking their junkie girlfriend. Great. Just great.

I feel my nose scrunch up at the sight. I didn't look that long, but god knows that image is gonna be engraved in my brain until the night is over. I don't say anything. I mind my business. I take one last puff from my cigarette before throwing it onto the ground. I stomp on it to make sure that the flame stops burning.

I walk back into the club. Smash Alley is what it's called. This place is pretty much my second home. The blue and purple lights compliment each other. Not too light, but not too dark either. It's not that big, but it's enough for a decent crowd if a band wants to perform here. We get a lot of small acts. Some make it big, some don't. It's the cycle of the music industry.

I can hear the music coming from the back as I put my jacket on the rack. Whoever was out there sounded pretty good. I couldn't hear any of the lyrics, though. Just the guitars and drum rhythms that escaped through the door of the backroom.

"You're back early?"

I turn around. It's Daisy. Her brown hair in a low ponytail, swaying back and forth as she walked. She must've been grabbing more bottles of vodka. It was a big hit around here. It was a big hit everywhere, so I hear

"Uh, yeah," I answer, "Couldn't even finish the cigarette I had."

"That's unlike you," she said back to me, "Why?"

I don't wanna talk about it. I try to make something up, but the words seem to get caught in my throat. My face felt hot. I'm guessing she saw the embarrassment on my face, because she giggled.

"Taylor and Stacy are fucking in the alley again, aren't they?" She asked.

I say nothing after that. Daisy sent a smirk my way.

"That was Stacy? I thought it was some junkie," I tell her.

"Stacy is a junkie," Daisy replied.

I often forget that Stacy shoots up every now and then. I don't even know why Daisy hired her. I followed her out to the counter.

"Fair enough," I say.

I see that she's struggling with those bottles. I walk over to her, holding my hands out to her. She looks up at me confused, before she responds with, "I've got it."

"That looks like a lot," I say, "Last thing we need is le patron tellin' us that we've fucked up again."

Daisy looked up at me. Her brown eyes look confused. I think for a moment, trying to find the english work of what I just said.

"Oh. Uh, the um ... The boss," I tell her.

Daisy nodded. "Oh, okay."

We stand there for a moment. We're both awkward, both close to each other. I've always had a sense that Daisy liked me. For some reason that made me very uncomfortable. The way her brown eyes would look up at me. The way she subtly tried to flirt or try and learn my native language as an excuse to get close.

Don't get me wrong, she's very pretty. Pretty eyes, great personality, but I always found Daisy to be more like a sister than anything else. She could easily get a boyfriend, it just wouldn't be me.

I grab two of the bottles from her so that she wouldn't drop them, and I put them on the shelf. She looked like she zoned back in, paying attention to the task that was originally at hand.

"Oh," escaped her lips once again, "Thanks."

"Yeah, no problem," I said back.

I felt bad that I felt awkward. I couldn't help but to shift in the spot where I was standing. I look out in the crowd. Most of the people are vibing to the music. There's dancing. Seeing such a community made me feel at ease after my second awkward experience of the night.

The night was pretty busy. There were about three people at the counter. Me, Daisy, and Stacy, who finally came back after what seemed like ten rounds of sex. It didn't make it better that she smelled like it. Sex and cigarettes. Wasn't a great combo.

We pretty much started to close up after the band's gig was over. I wish I had actually got the chance to enjoy their music. But, I was more focused on the task at hand. A lot of people wanted their drinks, I made them. But, that was no big deal. I was wiping off the tables when Daisy went to tap my shoulder.

"Go," she said to me, "Me and Stacy will handle it. Go home."

"You sure?" I ask.

She nodded. "Yeah. Positive. You walk home, yeah? You need to go."

I let out a hum. "What time is it?"

"It's half past three," Daisy answered, "So yeah, you should start walkin'."

I smile. "Thanks," I say back, "You two get home safe, alright?"

Daisy nodded, and Stacy gave a thumbs up. I walk to the back of the club. I grab my jacket, and I make sure that I have my cigarettes my lighter, and my spare keys to the apartment I shared. When I confirm that everything is safe and sound in my jacket pockets, I leave the place.

Walking through Los Angeles was usually never this eerie. Never this quiet. There would still be something going on. Right now, it seemed like everything was empty, which was weird for a Saturday night. But, I keep walking. The goal is to get home safe.

I feel a presence. I feel like I'm being followed. Something tells me to speed up, and so I do. It's not by much. I was never a fast walker. Any faster and I would trip and fall on my face.

Three seconds later, I hear a scream.

It's far away, but it's loud. It echoed through the night. I don't know why, but I stopped in my tracks when I heard it. Whoever that was, they were in extreme danger. But I'm smarter than that. I'm not going to investigate if I'm already far away. Matter of fact, I don't investigate at all. I run so that I can get home.

And that's what I did. I ran. I ran away without looking back.