The Jesus of Suburbia

Red Dexter

Once they had all left, I gradually began to unpack my worldly goods. I didn't have much, but what I did have was important.

It was stupid stuff really.

A cool guitar pick that I'd picked up in the subway, a pack of cards I'd learned to do a few magic tricks with in seventh grade, a lucky quarter that I used for everything and a silver anarchy symbol attached to a black chord.

I put all of these things in a drawer between a hoodie and a pair of jeans. After putting away all my belongings I put the suitcase in the closet and looked around. The room was beginning to seem more friendly, I guess.

Not that I needed a room to be friendly but at least it didn't feel as much like jail cell anymore.

As I began to hang the posters up with small tacks, I started to get a tune in my head. I hummed it quietly as I randomly hung my music life across the blank wall.

The tune deepened into something catchy, but not quite annoying.

Quickly, I got out my guitar and began to pluck the strings. Gradually I figured out the melody.

Then I started a staring contest with a piece of paper.

What could I possibly write about?

My life was interesting but a depressing mess. Who wanted to hear about that? Who would even care in ten years?

I sighed and fell back on my bed, still clutching the notebook to my chest.

Who would care in ten years... I think.

That's certainly something to write about.

Scrambling for a pen I begin to write the lyrics that come across my head.

"Wanted dead or alive, not a soul will dare. Emotion's a joke, don't get too close..."

I whispered the lyrics to myself, then gradually began to sing it along with the tune. It was sounding... Well, good.

If I admitted it to myself, I was shocked.

An hour or so later I had something pretty concrete on paper and a guitar melody to go with it.

Somehow it didn't sound exactly right though.

Would it be cheating to ask Joseph to play drums with me?

Probably.

I shrug and pull out my phone. It didn't have a great camera, but it was alright for this purpose.

I situate it with the desk as a sort of tripod thing and sit on the bed. My posters are in the background and I'm rather proud.

It starts to record and I start to play, singing along. The song is so completely raw.

The lyrics are from a spot in my mind that I hadn't used enough, the video was unedited, the song was extremely new and the song meaning was too deep for anyone to get but myself.

Raw.

As I was uploading it, YouTube asked what the title of the video would be.

Technically it would be James Armstrong in a week.

It had a nice ring to it, but it didn't feel like me. I wasn't an Armstrong. I was a Dexter.

So, I typed that in.

"Dead or Alive, By: Red Dexter"

Red Dexter had an edge to it, like Marylin Manson, Gerard Way or Billie Joe. Easy to remember, easy to talk about.

With a large gulp of air I press the upload button and wait for it to load.