Brooklyn Baby - The Beginning of Lana Del Rey

Part 9 - Beautiful People Beautiful Problems

We continued with the routine of my original lyrics with the band's separate music for around 2 hours. We had created this rock, folky, glamourized kind of sound with our playing. Original and transcendent, the music we made that evening was everything I always dreamed of making. During the session, we also started to write collectively and tried to compose something that would agree with all of our tastes.

When the moon rose and the crickets filled the humid summer air with their chirping, we decided to call it a night, music-wise. Drew wanted to celebrate my joining of the band with dinner and dessert, and who am I to turn down a free meal.

"Are we thinking Sonic or something nice?" I asked them as we got ready to leave.

"I'm not going to pay $40 on mediocre chicken," said Tim, who agreed to get the whole bill. "Let's go to Olive Garden so I can spend $60 on mediocre pasta."

Arthur walked by and wrapped his arm around my waist, "you deserve it," he said playing along.

We all stuffed into Aaron's soccer-mom van and veered onto the road, headed to dinner. Tags put in his own CD into the car's slot. Some jazz came on and the guys screwed up their noses in dislike.

"What is this shit Tags?" Tim asked.

"Real music. Not all music we listen to has to be overly pessimistic and angry."

"Well, I love it," I said confidently. Arthur turned to stare at me from the front seat and just smiled.

We entered the eatery and sat down, table for 6, and ordered our separate meals.

"So what's your story, Lizzy?" Tags asked. "I know it's cliche to ask, but we're in a band together now, and well, you know what they say; once you're in a band you're bonded for life."

I laughed and answered, "Well, I was raised upstate, and was shipped off to boarding school in Connecticut after a slight drinking problem got out of hand." The boys stared at me with wide eyes and didn't speak for a moment.

"Sorry if this comes off as too personal, but did you leave with an intention to stay sober? Or are you still rebelling against the light side?" Aaron chuckled. "Sorry, humor is my defense mechanism."

"I drank because I was lonely, now I'm not," I said simply. "I guess I could describe what I do now as a balance." There was a definite pause of awkward silence after I spoke. Talking about those times always makes the listeners uncomfortable, but it always confuses me. They aren't the ones affected by it. I had healed; not completely, but enough to move along with my life.

"So I left my parents, that relationship isn't the best I admit, but I live with my aunt and uncle now."

"I've struggled too," Tim said. "Meth."

"Pills," Drew admitted too.

I felt better knowing I wasn't alone, and that I was surrounded by people who knew what it was like to experience real difficulty in life.

"Hard liquor," Arthur hesitantly added. I turned to Arthur and looked into his colorful eyes.

I whispered so that only he could hear me, "I didn't know that. Why didn't you tell me?"

"I didn't want you to worry. I'm done with that part of my life."

The waitress brought out platters of breadsticks, interrupting our conversation.

"Is this your first time in a band, Lizzy?" Drew asked in his hilarious voice, changing the tone of the evening, thank god. It was getting a little too depressing.

I fidgeted with the straw of my Pepsi Cola. "Um.. yes, actually I haven't sung much in public. Twice to be exact. Only once by myself. But I'm learning."

"Well, we haven't exactly done many live gigs ourselves," Aaron said from across the table.

"We aren't exactly the most famous band of Brooklyn," Arthur said from my side.

"Glad to know we're on the same page," I said. "I think we're great tonight."

"Those lyrics we came up with are going to create one hell of a song," Tim said. "Aaron is sort of our manager because he's the one that finds us places that will let us perform."

"Great! I'm not expecting anything soon though," I said.

"Of course, we won't do anything until you feel comfortable," Arthur said and grabbed my hand under the table. My stomach swayed from the rapid flapping of butterfly wings.

After we chewed on breadsticks for 30 minutes, our pasta and salad arrived. I ordered spinach lasagna, and Arthur copied me.

Aaron spoke with a mouthful of Alfredo sauce, "So I was thinking we meet up every Sunday, Monday, and Thursday evenings for rehearsing, so it won't affect your waitressing Lizzy."

"Oh,  you didn't need to-"

"We don't want you to have to make any sacrifices for us Liz," Arthur said.

"I'm very excited," I said honestly.

After dinner, the dessert Tim ordered, and the drinks that had been reordered (not for me of course) were finished, Aaron dropped me off on his way back home.

Once I was ready to sleep, I took out my song journal and wrote down the day's poetry. Lighting a cigarette, I looked out at the full moon through the hot, smoggy haze over the city and thought. I wondered what was laid out for me. Is there a next big thing about to happen? Or is this it, and all I will get out of this dream are some new friends? I wrote my thoughts and put out my cigarette, shoving my ideas away for another, more awakened, time.

I am glad I have found, and I don't mean this too boldly, but firm enough, my people.