She's My Rebel

Boulevard Of Broken Dreams

She's My Rebel

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So this is a story for my friend chastity. long due but hey? its better late than never. And this is for you too nini. 

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Today we are going to yet, another art show. If I didn't have anything  better to do than I wouldn't go. 

"Horrible neighborhood…Danny should really think of relocating." my mom says. I roll down the window to get a clear view and I have to admit, it is a horrible neighborhood. There's graffiti everywhere and trash all along the streets,the grass is ugly and dried up. 

"Danny is yet another nobody artist." my father says. "He should have taken the offer I gave him." He shakes his head and continues driving. It's funny how he can talk about his own son like that. 

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"Hey sis." Danny says greeting me in a hug. My brother is an artist and moved out when he turned twenty one. He does many art shows in hope that someone buys his art pieces and surprisingly people actually do. He has become known but to my father he'll always be a nobody. 

"Don't you look handsome." I laugh at him. He's wearing a tux and actually did something with that crazy hair of his. 

"Gotta look good." he winks and goes to greet other people.  Art shows are a get together for all the rich and business people. And that is why i always get bored. My brother isn't the only artist here to show their art so I follow my father and his friends around and listen to them talking about the other art. 

 They start talking about money and business and that's when I start getting bored. 

"What are those vandals doing here?" my father says. I turn to see what he's talking about. 

Three guys all dressed in too much black walk in smiling. They walk past us, the shortest of them smiling at me. My father glares at him causing him to smile even more. They head towards a guy and start talking intently with him. 

"There he goes again….why can't John sign non drug addicted musicians…" one of my father's friend's says. 

They all laugh. 

"I'm going to get some fresh air." I tell my father. He nods and continues talking. 

I walk into the alley and sit on a bucket next to the garbage bin. 

Wish I had my cd player….

"Fuck" someone says and kicks the garbage bin. I gasp and fall from the bucket. 

"What the.."

I sit up to see the guy who smiled at me. He holds up his hand out and helps me up. 

"I just saw you like….ten minutes ago and…." I brush the dirt from my hands. "You didn't seem angry." 

He picks up the bucket and sits on it. 

"I wasn't. "

"What happened?" I ask. 

"I'm in a band…and we're looking to get signed by a record label." he says. "That guy in there could have signed us….but his deal was bullshit." 

"Don't worry…there's always a next time." I say.

"Yeah….this is the fifth time we try." he says. "No wonder this street is called the Boulevard Of Broken Dreams." 

I look at him strangely. 

"It is?" I ask. 

He laughs and shakes his head. 

"Not literally." He stands up. "You see. Along this street are the common places musicians…writers and whatever talk about offers and about..going big."

I nod. 

"But, it mostly never works out." 

Ohhhhhhh. 

"What are you doing out here?" he says looking at me. "I saw you in there too." 

"I got bored of them talking about pointless things…." I say. 

He stares at me for a while, his eyes never leaving me. I don't know if I should feel creeped out or flattered. 

"You're different….aren't you." he says. 

"What?"

"You're not like them. Snobby and full of themselves." he says. 

"Well just because I'm rich doesn't mean I should be snobby." I snap. 

He laughs and holds his arms up in defense. 

"I'm just saying…." he says. 

"And how do you know I'm different and not snobby" I ask. 

He laughs. He's been laughing at me a lot.

"For one…." he says getting closer. "You're wearing forty dollar converse and not a pair of hundred dollar pumps. And you have Blitzkrieg Bop written on your arm." 

I cover it even though he has seen it already. 

"So?" I say. "I-I was bored-" 

"So you write the title of a Ramones song on your arm." he says. "Your people don't listen to that." 

"My people?" I say. "We're not some kind of species."

"Your kind of feisty….." he laughs. 

"I have to go." I say and start walking back to the art show. 

"Hey what's your name?" he asks. 

"A-Amy…." I say the first name that comes to mind. 

"I'm Billie Joe." he says. 

"Nice meeting you" 

I take one last look at the Boulevard of Broken Dreams before I head inside. 

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Tell me what you think. This was sort of a rushed chapter and I just wanted to publish something.