58. The deal, the name and the prince (Part Two)

785 22 64
                                    

Pink. They're turning pink. My purple highlights are slowly but inevitably waning into sad off-brand bubble-gum pink, whereas the blue dye is fading out completely to my old boring dark brown. I'm here, squatting over the toilet, examining the locks of hair falling in front of my face, lighted by the buzzing light of the Ok Hotel's restroom. I flush the toilet and pull up my pants and then I can hear the sound of the club's music going up and down straight away, followed by chattering and laughing sounds of female voices. Somebody else got in so I'll just stay here some more. I don't know why but I don't like meeting other people when I get out of the bathroom, it makes me nervous. I have nothing against going to the bathroom in three, five, ten girls all together, but if I have to pee, I'm the one who always goes last and tells the others to go first and that she'll meet them later outside. I can't use this system with strangers, especially in public toilet rooms in clubs with never ending queues outside the door. What do I do then? Either I hold my pee or I give up, trying to avoid eye contact with the girl getting in after me, who surely doesn't give a damn about me and just wants to fuckin' pee. This time though, it's early, the show has yet to start and the restroom was empty, at least until these people got in. Who knows how many are they? From the voices they seem three, I won't have to wait for that long. I just hope none of them will start wondering why the door of my stall is locked.

"Have you already heard these Pearl Jam guys play?" my ears don't miss the question asked by one of them since I'm focusing on their conversation, until now only to understand when they'd leave, but now even more interested.

"Not yet, but Emma did, right?" another voice, a little higher-pitched than the previous one, replies.

"Yeah, and the singer is so fuckin' hot!" the third voice has a vague Boston accent, I can't decide if it's a real accent the girl's trying to hide or a fake one she's putting up on purpose, I don't know why. And the accent is the first thing that catches my attention, more than what she actually says.

"Well, you don't need to hear him sing to say that, you just need eyes to look" the first voice chuckles.

"Yeah, he looks fine if you just see him around but on a stage? He's much sexier. You'll see and you'll agree with me"

"He's not bad but I'm more oriented towards the bass player" voice number two chimes in again but her friends immediately drown it out.

"We know, we know!"

"You've been oriented like that since Green River, maybe it's time to change your orientation since you've been getting no chance in hell, what do you think?"

"He'll be single once again sooner or later, won't he? He won't marry Miss Perfection, I mean..." the harmless, and after all kind of flattering, nickname these chicks just gave my friend bothers me a little, unlike their appreciation of Eddie. Actually I'm almost... pleased? By what they say? Yes, pleased. Am I normal or what?

"Aim for the accessible single ones in the band, trust me" Emma-maybe-Boston tries to discourage her friend from her crush on Jeff.

"That is the guitar player only"

"Who? Stone? Hasn't he recovered from his fucked up relationship with Psycho Valerie yet? Or you mean the other one?"

"The other one. Stone has a girlfriend, he must have found a new trust in women"

"Or he's just keeping this girl at a safe distance from his guitars hehehe"

Ok who's Valerie? I must remember to ask Meg.

"So the only ones left are the lead guitar and the singer. You're taking the guitar player"

"The singer isn't single"

Wait until the music's overWhere stories live. Discover now