The City That Never Sleeps
that bar we went to, remember? And then we helped each other, and now look? We have a place to live, we have full time jobs we hate – that’s all anyone is striving for anymore in this country, and we have it.”
Nathanial laughed out loud. He thought she was joking.
“Clair, what the fuck are you talking about?” he asked.
“I’m talking about…what if something goes wrong on this trip? What if we lose everything? I had a weird dream last night.”
“Oh, you had a weird dream?” he was pissed, which surprised and upset Clair. He’d never been this mad at her before. “Well I have a dream too – of getting out of here and breathing fresh air – different air – and getting this demo out to someone who might actually care and be able to do something with it – of not just playing at the same stupid clubs every night for the same snooty hipsters but to get out there and just…have fun! I can’t believe you’re pissing all over this!”
“I’m sorry! I just don’t…” she looked around the restaurant, as if someone could rescue her from the sudden upset she caused. “I just don’t feel right about this.”
“Yeah? Well I don’t feel right about anything but this.” He headed towards the stairs, adjusting his hat and looking back at them.
“Come on, J,” he called for Jeremiah. He didn’t give a shit about Clair right now.
3 “I Don’t Know, I’m In A Weird Place”
Of course it was raining. It seemed to rain every time Marisa went out. Still, she wasn’t going to let a little rain stop her from having fun. I mean how long had she had a crush on Nathanial? He was wild – he was different. The day could be as shitty as ever but if she ran into him, or even thought about him, he made her giggle. And of course he was cute, so there was that. There was no one like him on earth. His pale skin, all those freckles, those green eyes. That hysterical hair. Just his overall strangeness. He wasn’t just different, (this was New York, almost everyone aspired to be different) Nathanial was special. How long did it take him to finally notice and invite her to something? About two months, two months of giving him that look at the coffee shop and thinking he understood it, two months of waking up in bed and pretending he was there and satisfying herself as best she could. But hey, maybe it would only take one night – tonight – to make up for those two months of being patient.
Then she was smiling in the rainstorm.
Marisa caught a glimpse of her reflection in a storefront window. She looked hot walking down the drenched street of N. 6th in her short black skirt, loose-fitting plain white t-shirt and 6-inch red high heels. It was a great outfit – not trying too hard, but definitely sexy.
The humidity plus the expensive hair product she used gave her fiery red hair an extra thick texture. Everyone stopped and stared at her as she made her way to the club. A model, they assumed she was. An extra for some video being shot in this trendy part of Brooklyn. Maybe a Nylon shoot.
“Hi,” she said in her husky voice to the bouncer as she showed him her ID.
“Here for the band, doll face?” he responded, glancing at her ID.
“Yeah, I’m here for The Wrist Burns,” she said, her voice extremely sultry. He smiled at her, taken back by her pale, dewy complexion and soft brown eyes. She had a sweet, shy smile, but there was also something daring about her.
“If I start a band will you come to my show?” the bouncer flirted.
“Of course I would,” she assured. He smiled again, and he wasn’t an easy fella to get a smile out of.
“Enjoy yourself now,” he said before she went in.
She made her way down a long, dark trepid hallway in her challenging heels, eventually finding the bar and spotting Clair.
“Clair!” She called out, happy to be here and out of the rain. A part of Clair was very excited to see Marisa and the other part was jealous. Nathanial was going to have sex with her, it was just inevitable. Clair had to realize that Nathanial would never be anything more than a friend to her. They had too much to lose if they had sex. She had to accept that. Not even six days on the road without any distractions would change that…right?
She greeted Marisa with a hug. The intoxicating smells coming off Marisa were almost too much – a whiff of Chanel perfume, the cotton candy smell of her hair, the sugar cookie scent of her lipgloss. She smelled like a mountain of candy.
“You smell really good,” Clair said aloud before she had time to reconsider. She blushed as Marisa waved the comment away.
“Oh stop! How was your day?” she asked Clair.
“Oh, you know. Work and then…” she took a deep breath. She wanted to mention the trip, but she also didn’t want to think about it. Instead, she focused on Marisa – her wildly beautiful appearance.
“Those shoes are insane!” She pointed down at them.
“Right? No, actually I think I’m insane. I will be stumbling home for sure.” Marisa was quiet for a minute. Then she leaned into Clair and whispered. “It’s so fucking good to be out, where’s Nathanial?”
“Getting ready backstage. We kind of had a…little fight,” Clair admitted.
“Oh no! About what?” She looked at Clair, fully expecting all the details. Clair knew Marisa from the coffee shop. Marisa came in every single day at the same time, ordered the same drink and always tipped graciously. She was always so polite – or maybe she just did it to impress Nathanial, who was always too busy being his crazy self to not even notice.
“It’s not a big deal,” Clair brushed it off. “You want a drink?” she asked.
“Fuck yeah!” Clair giggled at Marisa’s enthusiasm for alcohol.
“So how was your day?” Clair asked as they waited for the bartender to notice them.
Marisa rolled her eyes. “A disappointing lunch with a superficial friend, and then my ex sent me a pair of panties in the mail.”
Clair passed her a crazy look. “What?! Your ex sends you gifts? I’ve dated losers that never gave me gifts when we were together.”
“Yeah well, there’s a reason he did it…” she sounded glum, but just for a second. She turned around with a fresh smile on her face and took a deep breath.
“He wants to get back together with me,” she explained. “Every day I’m like, no. And the next day he’s like, how about now? And I’m like, no, and the next day he’ll text me Rimbaud poems – he fucking never read Rimbaud! He just goes online and finds them. I can’t stand him. And he’s still like ‘how about now, now will you go out with me?’ I want him to understand that I cannot date him unless he turns into someone else.”
Clair laughed. “You’re hysterical!”
Marisa gave the bartender a fresh, bright smile.
“Hey!” she said. “Can I get a Wolf’s Tooth Ale?”
“I’ll have one too,” Clair said after he’d walked off, not even noticing Clair. “Did he hear me?” she asked Marisa.
“Not sure. So how was your day? Besides your little fight.”
“I don’t know…I’m in a weird place.” Velvet Revolver’s cover of Cheap Trick’s Surrender came on and it was too loud to talk anymore.
“I…fucking…love…this…song,” Marisa declared. “We have to dance!” Clair looked terrified.
“You know how rare it is when your favorite song comes on and you’re near a dance floor?!” Marisa went on.
“Okay, but…I haven’t got my beer yet,” Clair tried to find an excuse. “And I prefer originals.” Clair, don’t be such a sour puss, that’s what Nathanial would say. Clair could not dance, she always felt like she looked like one of the Peanuts Gang out there trying to find rhythm.
“We’ll share this one!” Marisa shouted, holding her beer up triumphantly. “Come on!” she affectionately clamped her hand around Clair’s and pulled her towards the dance floor. Marisa proved to be pretty strong. She must work out, Clair figured, as she was tossed into the middle of the dance floor. Yoga. Pilates. She’s one of those. Marisa was vibrant like Nathanial. They were going to
get along great. They would have sex for the rest of their lives and forget anyone else existed.
Marisa started to dance without caring who was watching while Clair was too self conscious to even move.
“Here, dear,” Marisa said, placing the glass of beer in her hand. It was funny how motherly she was about doing it, like giving a child medicine. Clair guzzled it down while Marisa continued to dance. She could be in a video with those moves of hers. Clair wished she had bothered to put on a dress tonight or bothered to doll herself up in any way. Maybe then Nathanial would notice her. Maybe she was too predictable. It was hard to dance when you didn’t feel sexy, which was why Marisa looked so damn good dancing right now. Clair looked down at her own clothes, dirtied by the coffee shop she worked at, and she had bruises from banging herself into the counter or the machine or whatever got in the way behind that cramped space she worked in.
Suddenly Marisa’s hand reached out and grabbed Clair’s wrist.
“Hey, you, dance. Be where you are!” Marisa shouted. Clair finished the beer and sat it down out of the way and decided to say fuck it. She was going to dance no matter how silly she looked.
“THERE YOU GO!” Marisa shouted as she fist pumped and started screaming along to the song.
“Whatever happened to all this season's losers of the year!
Every time I got to thinking, where'd they disappear!” Marisa sang. Clair kind of knew the words, and sloppily mumbled along.
“When I woke up mom