The Little Minx

Auditions

Delicately small and bony hands place a mug of coffee on the table, one of those reaching for the weekly paper: the Chicago Tribune.

Nothing seems to catch the attention of this man with shoulder length black hair whose emerald green orbs scan over each article. Nothing was new, to him at least. The world was decaying, it didn't take a genius to see that.

He sips at his coffee occasionally, eloquently even, while reading some of these articles, though really he just found them quite depressing. And it was evidence enough when he lets out a deep sigh from between light pink lips.

This was really just a past time for his morning but, there is something that seems to catch his eye eventually. Something in the ad section, usually the part of the paper he didn't pay too much attention to. It was an ad for a band. They were having auditions, video ones first.

Now he does smile, setting his cup back down and uncrossing those thin but nearly perfect legs to walk over to his parlor, the one room in his apartment dedicated to everything musical. He grabs his favorite red guitar, throwing the strap over his shoulder, getting to work immediately on the material that needed to be learned. And that's where it all began.

His video was submitted a day later.

----

Halfway across the country was a band, or broken fragments of one anyhow, just waiting for all of these audition tapes to roll in, which they had. One by one.

After Daisy Berkowitz had left there was some bitterness as to whose fault it was, though the keyboardist with spiked hair thought more than strongly it was all because of Manson. Which of course Brian would always deny.

Either way, they had no guitarist, and this would be an important position to fill. So now, all these men file into their studio in LA to watch what had been gathered while they waited.

"Alright fucks.... its gonna be a long night so you might as well piss while you can." Says their frontman, plopping his ass down on the couch after having popped in the first tape.

"And I am NOT gonna be the one to get up and change the tape every time! Just letting you know ahead of time."

"Whatever." Says someone. But it was probably Pogo.

------

Several weeks later, back in Chicagoland, the little thing later to be known as Zim Zum, walks onto a subway train, on his way to work at just a restaurant across town. He was a server but he was so shy and timid, it was a wonder how he even managed that. How was he supposed to preform in front of thousands if given the opportunity? Only he knew his own potential...

But he sits down on an open seat on the train, crossing one leg over the other and just keeping his chin low so that his bob cut would cover most of his face. Those tiny hands of his clasp together and it looked as though he might've been trying to hide in plain sight?

He got some attention this way but never usually much and that was exactly how he liked it.

Soon enough the train is stopping and he gets off, walking in a quick pace off to work dressed in loose fitting black dress pants and an ironed white black shirt to go with it. He looked rather nice, cleaned up, but it wasn't him. This wasn't who he wanted to be in life.

------

It's the middle of his shift when he gets a phone call from a number with a Los Angeles area code. He feels his heart nearly stop.

This had to be related to his audition.... the time frame was right? He had to answer.

The little man was already in the back of the restaurant but answering a call? Would definitely not be okay, so as fast as one could run, he goes to the bathroom and locks himself in, picking this up on the last ring.