Untitled

by Jackie Chanel

  She giggled. “I play too,” she explained. “Can’t afford one of those, though.”

  “You play guitar?” I didn’t even try to hide my disbelief.

  “Yes. That night we met, I had just auditioned for PURE. But Seth’s an asshole. He didn’t have any plans on putting a girl in his group,” she grumbled. “He just wanted some ass.”

  “Did you give him some?” I asked bluntly, hoping that she hadn’t. A girl this fine and plays guitar...I have to have her.

  “Hell no!” she grimaced. “I’m not that girl.”

  Whew.

  “Are you hungry?” I was making my move. “I’m going to grab a bite from the kitchen then hang out at the bar for awhile.”

  “I’m not hungry, but I’ll meet you at the bar. I have to say bye to my friends.”

  I watched her rejoin her friends then I made my way into the kitchen and asked Jo-Jo to fix me a cheeseburger and fries.

  I bumped into Paulie as I was coming out of the kitchen. I had forgotten that he was even here.

  “Hey, you gonna be here for awhile?” he asked.

  “Yeah, why?”

  He nodded his head towards a stacked, dark-skinned girl in a denim mini skirt and matching halter top, waiting patiently by the exit with her keys in her hand. I grinned and handed him my guitar so he could take it back to my apartment with him.

  “Rubbers are in the nightstand,” I told him. “Set the alarm when you leave. I’ll find a place to crash tonight.”

  Paulie is the only person who I would ever let in my apartment alone. I trust him with my life and my prized possessions. Besides, it’s hard for him to bring girls back to his dorm so I let him use my apartment occasionally.

  I stayed at Rabbit’s sucking down drinks with Julie until Kat came out of her office and demanded that we “get out of her bar and go to bed”.

  I drove Julie home to her apartment.

  “Do you want to come in?” she asked. Her hand was on the door handle but the expression on her face was clear. She wanted me to come in.

  “Sure,” I answered nonchalantly.

  “Good.” She smiled. “I have a bottle of tequila in the freezer with our names written on it.”

  “As long as I don’t have to drive home, I can handle anything you give me.”

  Julie smiled seductively. “We’ll see about that.”

  ****

  “Aiden, get up.”

  Julie was shaking me and my eyes popped up, instantly burning as the blazing afternoon sun seared my corneas, causing an immediate headache.

  “What?” I groaned sleepily and rubbed my eyes.

  Julie was standing beside the bed, fully dressed. I recognized my jeans and t-shirt in her arms.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You gotta get out of here.” She thrust my clothes at me anxiously.

  I’ve seen girls freaking out with the same anxious look in their eyes. It only means one thing...boyfriend. I took my clothes and started dressing.

  “Why didn’t you mention your boyfriend last night?”

  “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she stated as she hastily made the bed.

  “Then what’s all this about?”

  “My girlfriend, Taryn. She doesn’t know that I’m bi so you definitely can’t be here.

  I laughed hysterically. I had not expected that answer at all.

  “Wow,” I laughed again. “You have a girlfriend. That’s awesome!”

  “Aiden, now is not the time to be for your fantasies,” she muttered. “I’ll call you later, okay?”

  “I hope so.”

  Julie looked up from the bed and smiled. She crossed the room over to me and began kissing me.

  “Thank you for last night,” she said. “You were great, and I definitely needed that. I will call you later...I promise.”

  I drove home thinking that I’m the luckiest man alive. Girls in relationships are much easier to deal with than single girls. Plus Julie’s a lesbian. That makes things so much more interesting. I won’t have to worry about getting my ass kicked if we get caught.

  I was smiling like the village idiot, rehashing the night’s events, as I walked to my apartment. Out of the corner of my eye, on the lawn, I saw something that wiped the smile off my face.

  My couch. Why the hell was my couch on the lawn?

  I turned around slowly and noticed that all of my furniture was strewn haphazardly on the lawn...couch, loveseat, chair, mattress, my entertainment center. My TV wasn’t there though.

  I slapped my hand against my head and groaned.

  The eviction notice.

  I’d completely forgotten about that stupid notice after I tossed it in my glove compartment! Fuck!

  I ran over to the pile of crap – my father’s assessment of my belongings was dead on – and began to rifle through the mess, looking for specific items that were not there.

  My guitars, my computer, all of my recording equipment and my music...everything was gone!

  I’ve seen what happens when people get evicted. Their neighbors become savages and raid through all of their shit that the sheriffs have sat out on the street. Anything of any particular value is snatched up by someone who didn’t pay a dime for it.

  “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!” I screamed over and over as I kicked at the stained couch. What need do I have for this crap when everything I do need is gone?

  I looked around for the thieves who had stolen everything that meant anything to me. I don’t care what I have to do; I’m getting my guitars back! I started to cross the parking lot when Sunny’s red Mazda sped over the speed bumps and backed into the closest parking space, almost hitting me. She rolled down her window.

  “Where are you going?”

  “Do you see this shit?” I roared. “Somebody has my guitars and I’m getting them back!”

  Sunny laughed and got out of her car. “Hold on, Rocky. Before you start banging on the doors of black men with guns...your stuff is fine.”

  “What?”

  She started walking towards her apartment.

  “Juan and I put all of your equipment, clothes, and your other valuable stuff in my apartment before the locals could get to it,” she said over her shoulder.

  I breathed a deep sigh of relief and swooped her off her feet into a hug. She actually giggled and then laughed when I put her down.

  “Thank you so much,” I told her as we walked into her apartment. I saw all of my stuff piled into her second bedroom.

  “This is so incredibly nice of you.”

  “What would you have done if you saw everything I owned being tossed out of my apartment?” she asked but didn’t wait for an answer.

  “Why didn’t you pay your rent? If you needed money, why didn’t you just ask?”

  I sat on the couch. “Ask who?”

  “Me, my aunt, one of your band mates. You didn’t have to get put out of your apartment, Aiden.” She sounded like her aunt when she said that.

  “I didn’t need to ask for the money,” I told her. “I have it...well, I had it. I meant to pay the rent when I got paid, but I forgot all about the eviction notice and having to go to court.”

  “You forgot?”

  “Yeah.”

  Sunny shook her head. “Wow, dude. You just took irresponsible to a whole new level. What are you going to do now?”

  “Find another place to stay, I guess,” I shrugged my shoulders. “There’s nothing else I can do.”

  I didn’t feel like thinking about that now, though. My head was still throbbing from all of the liquor I’d consumed with Julie. Plus my heart was still racing from the thought that my stuff, my irreplaceable stuff was gone, lost to me forever.

  I leaned back on Sunny’s comfortable sofa and closed my eyes. When I opened them again, it was getting dark outside. Sunny was sitting in her beanbag chair, reading a magazine and eating a bowl of cereal.

  I sat abruptly. She burst out laughing.

  “So, you are alive. I’ve been sitting h
ere wondering how I was going to explain the dead white boy on my couch.”

  “Damn, how long was I asleep?”

  “About five hours.”

  I started to stand up and leave. I sat back down when I realized that I don’t have anywhere to go.

  “I told my aunt what happened,” Sunny said without looking up from her magazine.

  “What did she say?”

  “You really don’t want to know,” she replied. “Anyway, while you were unconscious, I decided to let you stay here until you can get another place.”

  “Umm...who are you and what have you done with the real Sunny?”

  I was only halfway kidding. Sunny was acting strange. But when she heard what I said, she didn’t even crack a smile.

  “I don’t know why you think I’m such a bitch,” she snapped. “I’ve been nice to you for months.”

  “What about all the other months that we’ve known each other?”

  She rolled her eyes and went back to her magazine.

  “Do whatever you want,” she mumbled. “But don’t say that I didn’t offer.”

  Considering I have no others options, what else can I do? I guess I can crash at Wild Mike’s for a few days but I really hate his evil bitch of a girlfriend, Jessica. Sunny is evil by nature. I swear, Jessica has sold her soul to Satan and worships him daily.

  Eddie’s is out. His wife doesn’t even like when he hangs with us after a set.

  “Too many single men together just leads to trouble,” she tells him.

  I doubt she’ll even entertain the idea of one of those single guys crashing on her couch.

  “Alright,” I said to Sunny. “How much to stay here until I find a new place?”

  She looked up from her magazine. “You don’t have to pay me,” she answered. “But...”

  I knew there was going to be a catch. It’s Sunny, after all.

  “But what?”

  “There are a couple of things...” she paused.

  “Like what?” I urged.

  “Like...I pretty much eat cereal twenty-four hours a day. Judging from all the boxes of cereal that were tossed out of your apartment earlier, so do you. All I ask is that you don’t use the last of the milk. Always make sure that there’s another gallon in the fridge before you take the last.”

  I burst out laughing. “You are hilarious!”

  “I’m serious.”

  “I know. That’s what’s so funny. I didn’t peg you as a cereal eater. I thought you might be a vegetarian since you’re always giving me veggie pizza.”

  “I am, but I eat more cereal than regular food. And that’s not all,” she snapped.

  “What else? Don’t tell me you play video games too. I can’t handle too many more surprises in one day.”

  She frowned. “No, I don’t play video games. I’m a grown woman. The only other thing is that I don’t like a lot of people in my apartment. I know you always have people over. But keep it to a minimum while you’re here, okay?”

  “Sure. This is your place. I respect that.”

  “And one more thing.” This time she smiled, shyly.

  “What?” I was curious to know the reason behind the smile.

  “You have to play for me every night.”

  I grinned. “Specifically for you? Because I generally play my guitar every night anyway.”

  “No...no not specifically for me,” she stammered. “I just like hearing you play.”

  “It’s cool.”

  Hmmm, me living with Sunny, even for just a few weeks would be an interesting, if not dangerous, experiment in patience and anger management. She’s being nice and polite now but that’s bound to change. It always does.

  Tomorrow, I start looking for a job. I can’t stay here, that’s for sure. A week...two tops. That’s about as long as Sunny and I will be able to keep ourselves from killing each other. I’m sure of it.

  Chapter 17

  Something small and hard hit me in the back while I laid on my bed, trying to go back to sleep. I reached behind me and felt around for the culprit behind the now throbbing pain in my back. Sunny’s Blackberry rested on my bed.

  Sunny stood in the doorway.

  “What?” I grumbled.

  “Why are you still in the bed? You should have been up.”

  “Sunny...” I said her name as a warning. I absolutely hate when she starts acting like my mother.

  “Okay, I’m sorry. But can you please get up? I want to show you something.”

  I groaned but swung my legs over the side of the bed. There are irritating moments like this that make living with Sunny unbearable. Thankfully, they are few and far between. Most days I actually enjoy being here. Having a roommate is actually pretty cool. I should have gotten one when I first moved into my apartment.

  Sunny is a great roommate. She keeps hours like I do, something I discovered by accident when I walked in on her using the bathroom when I thought she was at work. Plus she’s creative and understands why I do a lot of the shit that other people think is weird.

  I love to see Sunny at work. The way she sits at her design table, chewing on the end of an ink pen, deep in thought is adorable. We feed off of each other’s creativity. Whenever I see her get really passionate about a design she’s working on, it inspires me and vice versa. We also compete with each other. It’s usually Sunny who starts it.

  “I bet I can finish this dress before you finish that song.”

  When I first moved in, I used to play in my bedroom. I didn’t have all of my equipment hooked up because there wasn’t enough room. But a couple of weeks ago, I came home from Rabbit's to find that Sunny had converted the living room and dining room into a workspace that we could share. She’d even hooked up my recording equipment.

  “All by myself,” she announced proudly.

  Now we can work in the same room and I don’t have to hear her constant complaints about sitting on the floor in my room while trying to sew or draw a pattern while listening to me play. Having here there reminds me of when my sisters use to do their homework in my room while I played. She tells me when something sounds great and is always honest about how the music makes her feel. She even laughs with me when I play wrong notes or sing out of key.

  I never thought Sunny and I could be friends.

  I walked into the living room where Sunny was sitting surrounded by computer boxes and a stack of papers that she had printed at Kinkos.

  “What’s all this?” I asked, looking around.

  “Don’t get mad, okay?” she pleaded.

  When Sunny starts her sentences with ‘Don’t get mad, okay’ it’s usually something I should be getting mad about. Like the time she was driving my Firebird and some girl keyed it because she thought Sunny was sleeping with her boyfriend.

  “What did you do?”

  She handed me a sheet of paper off the stack beside her.

  “What’s this?”

  “I have a friend,” she started and an irritated groan escaped my lips.

  I have a friend is Sunny’s code for “some dude I used to mess with.”

  “Who’s in marketing,” she continued. “I told him about how we need to get you more exposure so he’s helping me put together a press kit for you. We’re going to need to include a sample of your music so I bought a better computer. You can record and I can make the CDs and stuff.”

  “Sunny, this is crazy. I’m at Rabbit’s three days a week. If a label is serious about me, they’ll come see me there. I’m generating enough buzz without doing shit. You saw the Creative Loafing article.”

  “One article in a free local magazine is not buzz, Aiden.”

  I read the paper in my hands. It’s actually a pretty decent bio on me. Sunny got most of my background and the types of guitars I play pretty accurate. I know her intentions are good.

  “You need to be playing at Eddie’s Attic, or Smithe’s, anywhere besides Rabbit’s.”

  “Why?”

  “Because,” she dragged
out the word like she was speaking to an unruly teenager. “Nobody pays any attention to Rabbit’s anymore. You need to play in a more mainstream place.”

  “Why?” I asked again. “I don’t play mainstream music so why waste my time playing for people who don’t get it?”

  Sunny rolled her eyes at me. “Whatever. I though you wanted a record deal.”

  “Sunny,” I sighed. “I do. But I also want to play for people who enjoy what I do. Playing at one of those places is not going to happen. They don’t want me. Believe me, I know.”

  I grabbed a can of Coke out of the fridge. I went back into my room. It’s my only day off and I do not plan on screwing it up by arguing with Sunny.

  Sunny has no idea of how many different places I’ve been trying to get booked at venue popular enough to catch the interest of a record label’s A & R person. The answer is always “no, not interested.”

  Since I quit school, I’ve played countless number of open mic nights, parties, coffee houses, and bars. The only gig that’s actually amounted to anything has been Rabbit’s. Three nights a week, I’m a headliner. People from all over Atlanta and the surrounding areas come to see me play.

  Can I do more? Probably.

  Do I want more? Hell yeah.

  But, if the people with the power to make it happen aren’t receptive to my music, all I can do is to continue what I’m doing until the right person walks into Rabbit’s.

  “Aiden!” Sunny called from the living room. “Come here and check this out!”

  She was on the Internet when I strolled into the living room.

  “What?” I looked over her shoulder at the screen.

  On it was a picture of me, on stage at Rabbit’s.

  “What is this?”

  “My friend Courtney works for Inside Atlanta. She saw you play the other night and wrote about it. What do you think?”

  “I think that no one reads that magazine so no label is ever going to see this.”

  I walked back down the hallway, trying to ignore Sunny’s grumblings about me needing to “get off my ass and get focused.” She doesn’t get it. When it’s my time to shine, it’ll happen. And it’s my choice to bide my time playing at Rabbit’s.

  ****

  I walked into Rabbit’s the next day a couple of hours before they opened, hoping to catch a quick nap on the cot in the back room. Tameka is up to her old shenanigans and judging from the way she was arguing with her new boyfriend, I’m pretty sure that the cops are on their way to her apartment right now.