A Little, Black Book

Ghost of a Drop Out

Music is a form of art that can define a generation. Take the 70's for example. It was a prominent rise of disco throughout North America, Europe, and even Oceania. That's not to say that it was the only important form of music that was around at the time. Smooth Jazz, Soul, and Rock were on the rise as well, giving a new outlet for Punk Rock and Hip Hop. 

Of course, times have changed, and in this decade, the most predominant form of music that is on the rise is without a doubt, electric techno.

I mean, who couldn't like it? The massive beats amplified by the bass speakers on each side of the "conductor". Of course, he goes by another name. A "Disk Jockey", or DJ for short. His eyes hidden behind the sunglasses that served no other purpose, but to make him look "cool". With his vest and slacks, you'd mistake him for an average man trying to impress, were it not for the headphones around his neck.

Switching the tempo and seamlessly mixing the tracks for another adrenaline induced high of sounds and rhythm, he raises his left hand, precisely adding a distortion with his right. "SNOWSCAPE!" The crowd lets out a roar of mixed excitement.

He licks his fingers and "scratches" the "vinyls" in anticipation of the next "drop". "MAKE SOME NOISE!"

Then madness. The bass was exponentially increased as the beats ran wild through the crowd. Some jumped to the tempo. Others danced freely in their own spots. Not the DJ. The only thing he did was focus on the instruments before him. Adding more and more sounds, beats, and scratches with surgical precision, his body and head bobbed to the beat of their own free will. 

As for me, I gripped my pillow out of frustration. Having an entire night club right outside your door will do that to you. I yelled, my voice drowned out by the insane volume of sound from my brother. 

Of course, I didn't blame him. His job as a Live DJ payed the bills, but only to the nightclub, in which we lived. 

See, when my father and mother had me, my brother was already aware of their abusive ways. When he turned eighteen, he became my legal guardian in a court case he won in a landslide. Maybe all those scars mom and dad gave me weren't so bad after all.

Still, he needed a way to take care of me, since the law firm fired him after that fiasco. Relying on his skills as a disk jockey, he gambled on the thought of opening his own club. Needless to say, his crazy success as the best DJ in the Eastern Hemisphere definitely payed off. At least, that's what I thought.

I am now residing at Club "C.N.D.Y." as the younger sister/manager of "DJ Dashiki." Funny how things turn out, huh?

It isn't all bad. I get free entrance to the club, free drinks (even though I am not old enough to drink), excellent reception during the day, and school is only a ten minute walk away.

Of course, with any life, it has it's ups and downs. At night, the noise is so mind boggling loud, even through double paned soundproof glass, the music leaks in through the walls and roof. The bass is so intense, I have to grip my glass if I'm drinking water or milk. Speaking of milk...

"Thirsty." I slipped off from my bed and put on my slippers. One thing I do not like about the morning after a rave was the litter that splattered the floor. Spliffs, discarded ecstasy pills, and the occasional lost prosthetic limb was mixed with the blood and sweat of the dancers the night before. It pays to have some easy to clean foot wear.

I made my way to the bar, carefully avoiding any stragglers that were doing their own shady business. The bass was loud. The crowd was loud. The loud was loud. Of course everything was loud. 

I neared my way, but was stopped by a girl who was clearly a seven out of ten high on whatever it was kids were taking these days. Weed? Ecstasy? I don't know, I'm only fifteen. Get off my back.

"Yo... Are you lost, kid?" They always say that.

"No, I'm not." I didn't expect her to hear me.

"Wow. You look a little young to be here. And..." She looked me from head to toe. "Are you like a ghost, or something?"

She must be talking about my albinism. "Yeah. I'm totally a ghost. Now if you'll excuse me."

I left her to her own disillusioned dreams and finally took a stool at the bar. I waved over to the woman with the red hostess suit. Where my brother finds these chicks, I'll never know.

"Heya, little snow. What can I get ya tonight?" Little Snow. Her nickname for me. I actually genuinely like it. 

I put up two fingers, laid out my palm, and set a finger on the table, in that order. My voice didn't carry too well since the sound echoed here more than in other places. 

"Milk. Got it." She took out a gallon of milk that was set next to a few wine bottles and poured it in a glass meant for liquor. 

I sipped it slowly and tried to call out to her. "So how's business been going, Ruby? Busy night?"

"Like you wouldn't believe, Little Snow. So many dudes here tonight. Especially from Ember's Edge. Saturday's suck, let me tell ya."

"No kidding." I finished my milk and set the glass on the counter. "I'll talk to you later, Ruby. I gotta finish homework."

"Have a nice night, little snow."

And so, I went back to my room, avoiding more dancers and covering my ears as my brother let another track mix. The last thing I heard him scream was something along the lines of "EVERYBODY FUCKING JUMP!" and a flurry of sound to dwindle as I got back into bed. 

I looked at my notes and continued on with my homework, bobbing my head to my brother's music.