1988
Seattle, Washington
Angie
"There's a party tonight. Some guy named Cam invited me, told me I could maybe bring a friend. I met him at the record shop, ya know, down the street from your place? Was it Cam? Ken? Whatever...you're coming."
Jane's at it again. Parties. Thank God it's not the bar. Where does she meet these people? I don't want to leave the house, especially not when Jeopardy is on all night. To be around people I don't know. Lots of people, that is. Booze breathed, sweaty, stubbly guys trying to talk you up. Why do those places even attract her...she never used to be into things like this. She was the goody two shoes between the two of us. Straight a's, daughter of the town sheriff, cheerleader. Maybe she had enough of it. She broke out of that shell... that facade? I don't know. Maybe this is who she truly is, how she truly wants to be. Change. Now she smokes cigarettes like she breathes oxygen and wears fishnet leggings.
The bartender is accompanying us too. Jane says he's bringing a friend along, I know why. She's trying to set me up and now he's in on it. Great. Just what I need; some fuck-head cheater of a guy is setting me up with one of his loser, weed-smoking, "daddy has a lawyer"-esque buddies. I'm looking for a way to get out of the situation early and I'm not even at the party yet.
I hadn't said yes, Jane hung the phone up before I could get the words out of my mouth. I know she'll be here any minute, any second. I might as well throw on some clothes, maybe give myself a look that will repel the repulsive?
Who am I kidding? Those types of guys will fuck anything that walks. If I put a skirt on a pencil sharpener, their pants are bound to drop. She already knows my type, which is non-existent it seems like. Why is she agreeing to that?
My ability to ignore will be incredibly strong tonight. In fact, it'll be striving. Flourishing. Growing like never before.
Mid thought, a knock and a squeaky giggle is heard from the front door of my apartment. Jane. I better catch that before she busts the door down. Looking through the peephole, I see that giggle erupted out of flirtatiousness. She's got some pizza boy under her five-second spell. Gotta cut it short before he becomes enticed and starts drooling, I swing the door open.
"Bye hun. Oh, Angie. I thought you weren't gonna answer the door."
She walks in like she owns the place, typical. She's armed with makeup bags, typical again, and this garment cover hiding an outfit that I'm beginning to think she has just for me. Oh, Lord please, have her give me a break. What can it be, a little black dress? Please, please, please no.
"Don't worry, I didn't bring him just yet. We're picking him up on the way. His little friend is looking forward to meeting you. We better get you dolled u-"
She's cut off by my appearance. I'm surprised I noticed as I tuned her out right as the words "little friend" left her mouth. Sweatpants, a dingy The Cure shirt and unbrushed hair stuffed into a low lunch lady bun isn't too bad, is it? That question doesn't need to be answered as I am miles away from care. And her nude-lipped mouth left agape at my fashion choice causes a smile to form on my face. The first of the day.
"Well. You'll woo him, that's for sure. Let me help you, you poor thing. That beautiful brunette head of yours wasn't given to you for absolutely no reason at all."
————
Chris
I sat there, fiddling away at my empty straw wrapper, giving it more attention than I had been the conversation right in front of me for the last hour. And all I could think about was her. Her. When am I going to lose this woman from my mind? My eyes shifted to the clock on the wall above the register, 9 p.m.
"There's a party tonight back at Jared's. Beer and music. Live music. I say we try to weasel our way in to a last minute gig, man. It's been way too fuckin' long. I invited this girl too, her name's Jane. I think she's into me."
I perked my head up like a curious dog, now putting all of my focus on everyone else. Kim's right. It's been over a month since our last gig, which totally and completely blew. Someone had to fill in for Hiro, my voice was shot, we barely had time to practice. A mess. The shaking of the heads, the amount of times we watched the front doors of the place open and close, the crowd shrinking one by one. Fucking sucked. This could be an entirely new start. A refreshment. We're deprived of strumming a few strings anyway and I need to take my mind off of this shit, can't take thinking about it for another minute. Just as the thought comes into my mind...
"Shit, man. Just a warning. Jamie'll be there. She's got a new dude. Complete fuckin' bozo."
Fucking Hiro. The one to say things at the wrong time. Kim pushes his shoulder, stopping him from saying anything else. A quick "shit, sorry man" is the last thing I hear from Hiro as I get up to go use the bathroom. The diner's fries didn't help and that comment made it worse. Let me get a few beers in tonight, I'm sure I'll be set. Plus a last minute gig? Jamie, who's that?
I look myself over in the scratched up and graffitied mirror. I don't look the same anymore. I brush my hair back, the shadows of my face intensifying as the bad lighting corrupts them. Fuck. I'm a mess. I know that. That's enough feeling sorry for myself. At some point, I'm gonna have to get out of this. The cycle can't continue.
I run my hand under the cool water of the faucet, dampening my face with it to give me a sort of a jumpstart. I mentally prepare myself to walk out again. Gig tonight, we're doing it.
The guys are crowding the front doors of the diner as I walk out of the bathroom. Kim jingle's his keys at me as a persuasion to give a yes for a potential gig, a toothy, goofy smile plastered on his face. The rest of the guys are looking at me with puppy dog eyes, a plea all over their faces. I shrug my shoulders, a quick nod of my head. A yes from me.
We all pile into Kim's van. The street lights illuminating the rains drops on the windows, like a miniature light show. I've never met this "Jared" guy before, but I've heard his parties are no shit when it comes down to the music. A few local bands have gotten loads of gigs just from playing here, gotta start somewhere. They moved onto clubs and hit bars in the city, gigs galore. People dig them. Even got little managers I guess. Some of them you don't even see around anymore. Old friends, too. One could only wonder what they're up to now. If we do get big like that, if we make it, I just want to stay close. It's weird to think that it could be a possibility. A small chance, but possible. That's why this shit is like winning a golden ticket. A new place to perform, new people, a bigger scene. I'm beginning to feel like a kid in a candy store. I don't know if I have that much potential, though. I mean, I know the guys do. Kim sure as hell does. But me, I don't know. You know what they say, you're your own worst critic.
Being there is what it comes down to. Cars, vans booze, people, music. It's all what I actually enjoy being around, wholeheartedly. And I missed it.
