The Jesus of Suburbia

American Eulogy

[LOCATION: JFK Airport 1:00am]

We land in New York City at the irritating time of one o' clock in the morning. I groan and roll cover my ears as the pilot begins to talk about leaving the plane.

Technically first class leaves first, but I had no intention of standing up.

A pillow smacked my head and high laughter came from my right. "Tré." I mumble, swatting in his general direction blindly. "Leave me to die."

"Get up!" Another voice and something harder smacked my shoulder. "We have a show today!" Probably a book wielded by Mike.

So, after gathering my willpower, I opened my eyes and ran a hand through my hair. Too bright.

Tré and Mike have already started to walk off the plane and I can assume Billy is already off. I groan and stand up to follow them.

Thwack! My head bangs into the overhead compartment.

I swear loudly and rub the crown of my head as I walk out.

[LOCATION: Hotel 2:05am]

After gathering our baggage and some coffee, we head to a hotel.

One thing I've noticed about hotels is that they are all the same in one way or another. Someone should be more creative with the design.

Loft beds maybe? That'd be exciting.

As normal, I had a room to myself and a rather stern glare from Mike as I'd been getting since the Whatzername epidemic.

He still thinks there was a girl in there. Secretly, I wondered how much experience he had with this.

Since it was two o' clock when we got to the hotel, I collapsed onto a bed almost immediately, barely taking the time to toss my shirt across the room.

[LOCATION: Hotel 11:00am]

A girl with pink hair kept yanking on my arm, laughing. She'd say, "Carry me!" and I'd just roll my eyes and continue hiding my grin.

"No! Carry me, Red!" The girl protested again as she tugged on the hem of my shirt. Her words slurred together slightly but I understood them.

Finally giving in, I lifted her into my arms and began to walk out of the crowd of people. Her face nuzzled into my chest and her arms wrapped around me.

I woke up as an alarm clock pierced through my blurry memories of that night. With a groan I push aside the blankets and reach for the alarm clock which seems to be a few inches out of reach. Ugh. Maybe I have to move.

Or I could just ignore the alarm and get back to that dream.

I tug a pillow over my head and try but the alarm is too loud. So, I push myself up by my elbows and shut off the irritating beeping.

Several minutes later I'm out of bed and the trickling of brewing coffee can be heard in the corner of my hotel room. I check the messages on my phone and quickly reply to a concert reminder from Billie before opening up a message from Detroit.

"Do you have a Skype?" She asks.

I think about this for a moment. Do I really want to give a sixteen year old Irish fan my Skype?

Sure.

I reply with my Skype username and then set my phone aside to go drown my coffee in creamer. My hair is slightly messed up, I observe in the mirror. I run my fingers through the unusually platinum blonde strands with some gel and then decide not to burden myself with a shirt yet.

More ringing comes from the main area of my room and at first I think it's my alarm again, but it's my laptop

So, check the screen and it says "Incoming Skype call from Detroit92" in an annoying font. I click the answer button after a moment of hesitation and sit down on my bed as it loads.

A tiny box comes up in the left corner with myself, but the rest of the screen lights up with Detroit.

Her hair is curled today, I notice. She grins when she see that it has loaded and waves. "Hey Red!"

"Uh, hello." I clear my throat and the morning voice goes away. "Hi. How are you?"

"Good. You?" She keeps staring at me in a way that would make anyone self conscious. I stand up and get my coffee.

"Where are you going?" Detroit asks in a worried tone. As I come back I shrug. "Getting coffee." I sit back on the bed and look at her over the rim of my mug and an ocean.

"So, how did you find my song?"

Maybe she expected this question because she immediately answers. "Oh. My sister showed it to me. She loved that song."

"Loved?" I ask, confused.

"Yeah. Yesterday I was playing it and she got all mad at me." Detroit looks down and adjusts the bracelets on her wrist, frowning slightly.

A faint voice is heard from her side and her head snaps up. "Oh, here's my sister." She says, turning the laptop so my view changes.

There's a girl standing in the doorway with pink hair. She has lacy shorts on and a Nirvana shirt. Correction: my Nirvana shirt.

My jaw drops and I close it quickly. I can't even talk.

After a good ten seconds of confusion and silence Detroit turns the laptop away from Whatsername. "So, yeah. That's Charlie. Anyway-"

"Wait." I interrupt quickly and beckon for her to move the laptop angle again. "I think I met her when I was in Dublin."

She turns the laptop again and calls Charlie back into the room. Charlie returns with a groan and glances at the laptop once before looking at her sister. "What do you-"

I see her look at the laptop again and the rest of the sentence falls dead on her lips. She's silently surprised and then her face becomes tranquil again. "Red Dexter. Wow, uh okay." Charlie nods and backs up to the door.

Does she recognize me? I can't tell.

She had been drunk that night, so maybe.

"Wait." I repeat, probably sounding pathetic. "Please stay for a bit. Can I talk to you?" I lean closer to the laptop screen and brush back the blonde hair falling in my face.

Charlie looks towards the laptop with the same expression of shock and then shakes her head worriedly. "No. I- I'm leaving. Sorry."

With that, I see her slightly blurry form leave the doorway.

Detroit looks confused. She glances between her laptop screen and the doorway for a few moments. "Sorry about her. She's stubborn." The girl shakes her head quickly and then tugs at the neckline of her band tee. "So uh, what were we talking about?"

With a dazed expression I see her studying me.

"Do you have any tattoos?" Detroit asks quietly. She meets my eyes with a curious grin and then messes with her hair again.

I laugh halfheartedly and shake my head. "Not yet. I probably will sometime though." My gaze drops from her eyes and I look at my arms. "Something on my wrist maybe. Something to cover up everything I've done. Maybe it'd help me start over."

"Yeah, I get it." She says with an understanding sigh. There is silence between us for a while until I finally break it.

"Well, I'll text you later. I should get going. There's a show tonight."

Detroit nods. "Alright, I'll talk to you later Red!" She grins, but I can't return it. Instead I disconnect and slam the laptop closed.

Whatsername?

Her name is Charlie.