Lament---------------->

Old band posters peeling off the suspiciously stained walls served in place of decoration.  The air was stale, smelled of cigarette smoke, incense, and just a slight touch of mold.  Her ex-boyfriend swore there was a dead body buried in here somewhere, the smell lurking just underneath the otherwise “sweet” bouquet.

She was staring at the dysfunctional soda machine, wondering whether a kicks, slap, or shake would motivate it to give her soda up. 

“Well hello, punker than thou.” 

Jane stared down her nemesis.  In contrast to her ragged clothes and 4 color shaved and spiky hair, she was dressed in white-leather miniskirt and jacket; belly-revealing t-shirt, and petite streaks of pink in her ash-blonde hair.

“Fuck off Helen, you Brit-pop cunt. You been sucking little British cocks again?” 

“Kiss your mother with that mouth?”  With that comment the metal-bassist from down the hall slithered past both of them, carrying a steaming cup of coffee.

“Hey can you guys keep it down just a little bit?” Jane responded.  “Can’t hear my Marshall half-stack.”

“If only punks could play, then it wouldn’t matter,” Helen said.

She hated Helen with every bone in her alternative body. “Play?  Fuck you, try strumming punk chords for 45 minutes.”

“Shave your legs and then we’ll talk,” Helen smirked.

Jane stepped up to Helen, close enough to fog her matching pink sunglasses.  She could feel the adrenalin surge, and her fists begin to ball up.

“And not just play, maybe write a song or something too.”  Steven said as he unlocked his practice room door.

This last comment stung a bit.

“Unlike you poseurs, I’m an artist.  I’ve had my poetry published, and I express my true feelings instead of just trying to write some pop single.  I mean, death-metal, Brit-pop?  Why don’t you just bite the heads off bats, and you call yourself Britney?”

They both grinned at this one, knowing they had gotten to her.  She gave them the hairy eyeball and stormed off in a huff, slamming the pop machine with her elbow for the hell of it.

She shut the door hard on the way in.  Jimmy, her drummer, just looked at her over raised eyebrows.  “Take it easy, babe.  What’s haunting you?”

“Those bastards down the hall; little miss-too-pretty, and sir rocks-for-brains.”

“You can’t let them get to you.  Why do you even talk to them?”

“I don’t know. Relevance, something to say…somethin’ somethin’”

“Fuck art, let’s dance.” Jimmy punctuated his statement with a roll on his snare.

“Very droll, Jimmy.”

“But seriously, it’s all pop music.’

“Punk is not Pop, Jimmy.”

“If it’s not classical….”

“It’s popular music, you’ve said it a million friggin’ times.”

Trent peered out from under his hat, where he had been hiding on the couch, taking bong-rips.  ‘Pop, punk, slide Funk, who gives a rats-ass? Are we going to play, or what.”

She slid on her guitar, stuck out her tongue at him and hit the first in a long series of power cords.

*

“You’re late.”

“Sorry” she grumbled, not remotely believable.

“If you can’t do this job, there are a lot more who can.”

Jane stared into his bloodshot eyes for a moment, the pupils like little pinpricks.  “Starting to lose your teeth yet, Finn?”

Finn, long-time meth-head, was grinding his teeth while she spoke.

“Don’t you think you should at least cut down on the caffeine, too?”

“My personal habits are none of your business, Jane.  At least I’m on time every day.”

“And then you spend the entire day paranoid as hell, and hiding in the bathroom trying to take the edge off.  What do you do in there, masturbate all day?”

“That’s out of line.  I should fire your ass.”

She stepped close to him.  “Yeah, but you won’t.  Cause not only do I know where you buy your drugs, but I remember a certain company Christmas party and you begging me if you could kiss my pussy just one time.”

“You said you wouldn’t hold that over me.”

“Yeah, well, I lied.  Sexual harassment Finn.  I could probably sue.”

“You loved it.”

“I was doing X you prick, I would have loved King-Kong if he’d gone down on me.”

“Well…”  Finn was speechless for a moment, trying to think through years of speed driven neurons rampaging through  his brain.  “Can’t you at least try to be on time? Do I have to cover for you every morning?”

“But you’re here anyway, what’s the big deal?”

Finn could see no fault to her logic, and so just slumped off in a huff.

“You loved it too, you bastard,” she said softly when he was out of earshot.”

“Hey Chris.”

“Wazzup Janey, my girl.”

“Finn, I’m having a smoke.”

“Grumble, grumble,” Finn said, as she headed out the back door with Chris.

The back-alley was fragrant with the smell of old urine, and garbage from the restaurant next door.  Still, though, if you faced the Sound, you could catch a fresh ocean breeze and the smell of salt fish.  Some days, if it wasn’t too busy, she would climb the ladder to the roof and catch the mid-morning light.

“The usual sucky day, Chris.  Finn is bouncing off the fucking wall as usual.  He thinks the shit makes him faster, but it just slows us all down.”

“What happened to straight-edge,?” Chris said, grinning.

“Fuck you, homo-boy.  “What happened to straight-edge,” you’re funny…..last time I saw you, you were bent over some couch while some guy was trying to eat your ass through your pants.”

“This is true.  And last time I saw you, you had two boys and a girl on their hands and knees begging to get into yours.”

She punched him playfully on the shoulder and grinned.

“Ok.”

“What are you doing tonight?”

“The usual shitty practice.”

"Pete has a slot from 11-12 open up."

“Graceland?”, no fucking thank you.”

“You gotta loosen up Janey.  Stop being such the purist.”

“Something’s gotta be pure in this world, Chris.  If it isn’t the music, then what could it be?”

Chris mugged and grinned, held up his hands, nothing to say.

She had won the point, but a wave of sadness washed over her as she thought about what she had just said.  “If it ain’t the music, what could it be”, she repeated softly to herself.  She closed her eyes for a second, and just let the feeling seep deep into her bones. 

 

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