Sheldon and Alan finally made their way back into the ballroom as dinner was being served. Unfortunately, Sheldon and I stayed just long enough to eat and take some professional portraits. Before heading out, Alex asked me if I wanted to slow dance at least once before I left. He didn’t seem to care whether or not that would piss off Sheldon. Quite frankly, Sheldon didn’t seem to care either. I didn’t take Alex up on the offer, although I should have. Instead, I thanked him for being so sweet and tried to play it off like it was my idea to leave, even though it was blatantly obvious Sheldon was the one chomping at the bit to get out of there.
Aside from maintaining a relationship with Sheldon, I was also trying to balance the chaos of wrapping up my last few weeks of high school. Finals were just around the corner, and I suddenly realized I didn’t have a walking partner for the graduation ceremony. The school faculty wanted the walking partners to be boy/girl, and I was shit out of luck because all the guys I knew in my class already had walking partners. When I mentioned this to Arwen and Ariah, I was happy to find Arwen was in the same solo boat I was, so we agreed to walk in the ceremony together.
My last week of high school was hectic with graduation rehearsals and finals. Senior Wills were also distributed, which were basically a book full of dedications from seniors to other seniors, wishing them well in the future and recalling high school memories.
I read through the Senior Wills and noticed that Sadie had put in a Will. She made a dedication to her boyfriend then wished well to Carla and Tasha. To my complete surprise, she included me too.
I happened to see Sadie at her locker later that day and asked her why she had included me in her Senior Will. She said she had a change of heart and wanted to put the Ronan drama behind us. We immediately warmed up to each other and caught up on everything that had been going on in our lives. There was so much to talk about! I didn’t realize it had been well over a year if not more since I’d really spoken with her.
The day of graduation, I raced to school to meet up with Arwen for the ceremony. I walked into the main building where all the other seniors were, but there was no sign of Arwen. I knew there were other girls like myself who didn’t have male walking partners, and we were told earlier in the week that we’d be walking at the end of the line. So I made my way down the line as everyone gathered next to his or her walking partner. I had only been standing in line for a few minutes when a teacher pulled me out of line and told me to go stand with a guy named Kent Jackson, who I knew briefly from my days at Muscatel.
“Actually, I already have a walking partner, Arwen Gordon. She’s not here yet,” I said to the teacher. “She’ll have to walk with someone else. Kent doesn’t have a walking partner and we need to keep the boy girl formation,” the teacher replied.
“But I don’t want to walk with him, I want to walk with Arwen. I don’t want her to have to walk by herself.”
“She’ll be fine, we’ll get her another walking partner.” The teacher moved me up in line next to Kent. A few
minutes later, we were just about to march onto the football field when I noticed Arwen bolting up the hall in her cap and gown. The same teacher who paired me with Kent immediately stopped her. She pointed at me and pleaded with the teacher to let her go. I looked at the formation of the line behind me and Arwen wasn’t going to have a partner. She was going to have to walk the field alone, dead last. She stood there looking at me with her arms crossed, and I lifted my hands in the air, mouthing the words “I’m sorry”. She shot me a dirty look and turned away. I felt awful.
As I walked onto the field in my cap and gown, I thought I would be relieved that my school days were finally over. I always hated everything that had to do with school and couldn’t stand doing homework or getting up early in the morning. But when I looked around at the rest of my classmates, many that I’d known since my days at Janson, a wave of sadness came over me. Everything I had taken for granted and wanted to leave behind for so long, were suddenly things I desperately wanted to hold on to.
After the ceremony, I found Arwen and tried to explain it wasn’t my idea to walk with Kent, but she wasn’t having it. She felt I had jumped at the opportunity to ditch her and stormed off.
Arwen wasn’t the only one pissed off at my graduation. I stood on the football field for almost an hour, chatting with other classmates and my family, just waiting for Sheldon to rear his platinum blond head and shower me with graduation gifts, but he was a no show.
When I came home to change after the ceremony, I had a message from Sheldon waiting for me on my answering machine. He said he couldn’t make it to my graduation because he had to go to a Scorpions concert at the Forum to promote an upcoming Dancer show. I couldn’t believe he had the nerve to use that as an excuse. The concert wasn’t until later that evening and he knew damn well my graduation was taking place in the afternoon. I desperately needed to blow off some steam, and I knew all the seniors were going to a graduation party at my friend Dave’s house. So I did what any other scorned teenage girl would do. I went to the party and got drunk off my ass.
Although I didn’t have a set plan after graduating high school, the last thing I wanted to do was go to college right away. Without having a steady schedule of school or work in my life, it left a lot of free time for me to hang out in Hollywood, which Sheldon obviously wasn’t happy about. He was still hounding me about not going to The Strip anymore, and I kept right on ignoring his demands.
On the same note, Dancer had a show coming up at Gazzarri’s, and Sheldon wanted to know what I was doing after the show. Dancer usually threw after parties at their rehearsal studio following most of their shows, which he knew I’d always go to. So I found it a little strange that he would ask me what my plans were for the night. I told him I planned on going to the after party if there was one, and he abruptly told me there would be no after party. He said he was going home right after the show and badgered me to do the same.
The night of the show, I picked up Faye and we made our way out to Hollywood. When we walked into Gazzarri’s, I immediately spotted Sheldon’s ex-girlfriend, Evie, who Faye happened to be good friends with. I was just about to duck out and go to the bathroom when Faye insisted I come with her to say hi, which I reluctantly did.
I’d seen Evie around The Strip from time to time, but we never officially met until Faye introduced us that night. My initial first reaction should’ve been to dislike her, but she actually seemed very nice and was extremely soft spoken.
Despite the lack of tension between Evie and I, it was still a bit awkward trying to partake in conversation with her. I tried to give subtle hints to Faye about relocating to another part of the club, but she didn’t catch on. We ended up standing with Evie throughout the entire Dancer show.
When Dancer finished their last song, Alan walked onstage and threw out a handful of flyers to the audience. I glanced at one that had fallen beside me and quickly realized it wasn’t a flyer. It was a map with directions to a Dancer after party that wasn’t at their rehearsal studio. I was pissed.
I saw Sheldon after the show and questioned him about the after party. He said it was a last minute thing that was planned by two random fans (girls of course). The girls were providing all the food and alcohol, so of COURSE he and his band mates had to be nice and accept the invitation. He said he was only staying long enough to make an appearance and would call me as soon as he got home. I was still annoyed, but relented and ended up going home after the show because I wasn’t feeling well.
I passed out shortly after I got home that night, and when I woke the next morning, I realized Sheldon never called me as promised. As a matter of fact, I didn’t hear from him the entire day. The only person I heard from was Faye, who called me from Evie’s house and said they both had things to tell me.
According to Faye, shortly after I left Gazzarri’s, a girl named Jezebel was hanging all over Sheldon, and he left with her a short time later. Jezebel was about a year or so older than me and
regular on The Strip. I didn’t know much about her, other than she was a writer for Rock City News. To make matters worse, Evie got on the phone and told me that she had slept with Sheldon a few weeks earlier. He told her that he and I were on a “break”. She also said it was around the same time that she heard he was hanging out with Jezebel as well. My head was about to explode.
Sheldon called me the next day, so I confronted him about Jezebel and Evie. He said Evie was a lying, disgruntled ex who wanted him back and that Faye was a compulsive liar. He also said nothing was going on with Jezebel, that she was just a friend he caught a ride with to the after party. Against my better judgment, I stupidly believed Sheldon and let it go.
8
EMANCIPATION, CHEATING, AND REBOUNDS
Afew months had passed since I’d graduated high school and that’s when I met Nima's girlfriend, Missy. She was a petite brunette with big brown eyes and straight dark hair that cascaded down to her ass. She had just turned 21 and happened to mention she was looking for a new roommate. I joked around at the idea of moving in with her. I didn’t take it seriously because I was only 17, and my birthday was still many months away. Missy quickly suggested I be emancipated. I told her she was nuts.
Although the thought of moving out on my own was beyond exciting, being emancipated made me think of disgruntled child stars that were getting back at their parents for stealing their money. I felt it might be insulting to my mom to suggest such a thing. I also knew there was no way in hell she would ever agree to it anyway.
As for bringing up the idea to my dad, he didn't really have any say in the situation. He was already settled into his new life with Pamela and her two sons. It was definitely a major blow because we had always been so close up until the time of my parents divorce. But he had a new life, and I figured I should start a new one as well. So after a few days of long contemplation, I finally made the decision to ask my mom about being emancipated.
I walked on eggshells as I carefully and respectfully brought up the idea to my mom. To my complete surprise, she quickly agreed to it and wasn’t insulted in the least. I didn’t even have to do any convincing or arguing on my behalf. Hell, she even said there was a notary at her bank just down the street that could draft up the paperwork.
Damn. I didn’t think I was that bad of a kid. Her being so open to the idea made me wonder how much of a demon seed I really was.
“Am I that big of a pain in the ass?” I asked.
“Yes,” she said without hesitation.
“Thanks a lot.”
“Well you are Marisa. You’re a stubborn mule. If I don't emancipate you, you’ll find a way to move out anyway. I might as well let you go and make your own mistakes.”
I didn't appreciate her predicting my failure and intended to prove her wrong. A few weeks later, Sheldon picked me up along with a few of my meager belongings and took me to my new home in Canoga Park. Missy greeted me at the front door with a piece of chicken in her hand, and I noticed all the lights were out in the apartment. The only thing lighting up the room were a few candles that were sitting on her dining room table.
“Did I interrupt a romantic evening?” I asked.
“Not at all, the electricity was turned off,” she said as she let me in. “How long is it going to be off for?”
“Oh it’ll be on tomorrow. I forgot to have the service changed to my name. Here, have a piece of chicken,” she said as she pushed a KFC box towards me.
I took a piece of chicken as Sheldon proceeded to bring in the rest of my things. He left a short time later for band rehearsal, and I enjoyed my first dinner in my new apartment with Missy.
I was so stoked to be out of my mom’s house. I had no one to check in with and could come and go as I pleased. I could have parties and do whatever I wanted with no more curfews! My only handicap was not having my own car or a job, but Missy had recently handled the latter.
She told me she had already gotten me a job working with her as a hostess at a place called Club Mustang in downtown L.A. She didn’t mention anything about what my job duties would be, so I figured it was a standard hostess job. I didn't have any prior experience welcoming or seating people, but I figured it couldn’t be that difficult.
A few days after moving in, it was time to start my new job. I asked Missy what the dress code was, and she said to dress like I was going to a club. So I gussied myself up and rode with her to a sketchy area in downtown Los Angeles. We walked through the poorly lit parking lot, and I followed her to the front of an unmarked building. It didn't resemble anything that looked like a club or restaurant. There wasn’t even a sign outside to let you know anything was there.
I followed her up a flight of stairs lit only by white Christmas lights that streamed alongside the walls. When we reached the top, we walked into what looked like a nightclub. There was a dance floor, a bar, and a backroom full of couches where people sat around talking. Near the entrance was a counter with a cash register and what looked like a bullpen of girls just sitting around in chairs talking to each other. I continued to follow Missy through the club and into a small office where a grumpy old Asian woman told me to sit down.
“You 18?” she asked.
“Yes,” I said lying my ass off. I handed her my modified drivers license, which Missy and I had illegally altered the night before. She barely glanced at my ID then handed me a W9 tax form and a pen.
“You work any day you want, three day minimum each week. You done filling this out, you go sit,” she said and walked out.
“What does she mean by ‘you sit’? What am I going to be doing exactly?” I asked Missy.
“You’re a hostess. You hang out, you dance, you talk. It’s easy money.”
“That sounds like a stripper,” I said uncomfortably.
“You are NOT a stripper,” she said adamantly. “You wear what you have on. You don't take any clothes off, you don’t dance on a pole and you don’t give lap dances. Sometimes customers will dance with you on the dance floor, other times they’ll sit and talk your ear off about how shitty their life is. These losers pay for your time.”
“And that's it?”
“That's it. We sit with the other girls in the bullpen and if a guy likes you, you take your time card and clock in. When they’re done spending time with you, you clock out.”
“That sounds pretty desperate,” I said mildly grossed out.
“Fuck them,” she said coldly. “You get 80% of the money, and if they’re any kind of man, they'll tip you too. Oh and one last thing, don’t offer any personal information or give them your real name because they will ask.”
“So I have to pick a fake name?”
“Yes. Pick something that’s easy to remember. What’s the first name that comes to mind?”
“Nikki Sixx!” I said with a big smile across my face.
Missy rolled her eyes.
“Fine. From now on if anyone asks your name is ‘Nikki’, and you have no last name. Got it?”
“Got it,” I said nodding my head.
I had a bad feeling about that job. Hell, I had a bad feeling the moment we pulled into that creepy parking lot, but I wanted to prove my mom wrong. I was determined to be independent and make it on my own.
I nervously filled out my tax form, turned it in, and followed Missy out to the bullpen. I hadn't sat more than ten minutes when a scrawny Asian guy asked for my hand and we ended up dancing to a few awful 70’s disco songs. He barely said a word to me and when he did speak, I could tell he didn’t speak very good English. After an hour of dancing, twinkle toes had enough, so I grabbed my timecard and walked up to the register to clock out. He paid for the time, left me a $50 cash tip and said goodbye. No harm no foul. It was easy money.
About a week or so later, my mom asked how my job hunt was going. I had no intention of telling her what I was doing for a living. Not that I thought I was doing anything really wrong, but there wasn’t a way for me to explain my job to her without her thinking I wa
s either a prostitute or a stripper. So I lied and told her I had gotten a job at a clothing store.
A few weeks went by, and I reveled in being an independent 17 year old. I had a good paying job, and things finally seemed to be going well with Sheldon. The only downside was that I made the most money on the weekends. That meant I couldn’t go to The Strip every Friday and Saturday night like I used to. Other than that, things were going great in my world.
On the other side of the apartment though, things seemed to be up and down with Nima and Missy. Right before I met her, I knew he was seeing at least one other girl, but I didn’t know what he was up to once I moved into the apartment. Ironically, she was always worried about Nima cheating on her. So you can imagine my surprise when she started cheating on him with a guy named Gary.
We met Gary and his friend Sam at a Denny’s restaurant by our apartment one night after work. They were both 21, clean cut American guys. They had just rented a huge house in Calabasas and made good money running their own business, which was quite the polar opposite of our current boyfriends.
Sam was tall and slender with short brown hair and blue eyes. He was absolutely hysterical. He had a smart, witty sense of humor and had us in tears within the first few minutes of meeting him. Although Gary was the more attractive of the two, with his blond hair and hazel eyes, he was dopey to say the least. He’d chime in on Sam’s jokes, thinking he made them funnier when in reality they always fell flat. Not wanting to make him feel bad, the three of us would throw in a few polite chuckles for his efforts.
Missy went from zero to flirting with Gary in a matter of moments. That made it pretty clear to me she had no intention of mentioning anything about Nima. I knew it was just a matter of time before she’d try to pair me off with Sam as if we were boarding Noah’s Ark, so I quickly mentioned I had a boyfriend. I really liked Sam as a person, but my focus was on trying to make my relationship work with Sheldon.
Rock and Roll High School: Growing Up in Hollywood During the Decade of Decadence Page 14
