pretty when you cry ☆ {serj tankian}

☆

Despite the disgustingness of the office, I had hope that maybe the actually stage and standing area of the venue would be alright. Not that it mattered so much. The band wanted to play a show, and this was the next best thing after the countless bars they'd played at.

"Look, I'll listen to the tape this evening. I have your number," Calvin pointed to me. "So I'll be able to call if I make up my mind. In the meantime, think about how you plan on promoting the show, because if you can't sell enough tickets, you best believe you won't be performing here again."

It was evident that it was likely that the band would be allowed to perform, but I wondered how hard it would be to get enough people to come.

"Thanks, brother. Hope to get a call from you soon," Serj shook Calvin's hand and stood himself up, reaching for my hand to get me up.

His palms were sweaty, probably from being nervous. He grasped my hand and yanked my arm, so we were both standing, ready to leave.

We both walked out in silence, not speaking until we exited the building. Serj let out a sigh of relief, his body relaxing. "I think we nailed that."

I shrugged. "I dunno, I didn't really talk all that much."

"That's alright. Emotional support. Plus, you were the one who set up the meeting. That in itself was enough," Serj hooked his finger under my chin and raised my head so I was looking at him, instead of the sidewalk. "Now, let's go get shitfaced."

☆

I choked down another shot that Shavo'd mixed, trying to hold it down. It was only a matter of time before the alcohol would start coming back up.

Daron's small, yet oddly cozy apartment absolutely reeked of weed. It was cluttered, but it was homey. The walls were covered in posters, half of them slightly peeling and tattered. He had not one, but three guitars lined up against the wall in the living room. Next to those was a shelf crammed full of cds.

The couch which I sat on had a floral print, like one of those sofas you would find comfort in at a funeral home, or perhaps a church center. The smell emitted from the couch, however, was that of maybe a crack house.

I wasn't blaming Daron for the smell. He was just a broke ass kid who couldn't afford any better. The apartment building had extremely low standards, and it wasn't uncommon to find vermin of all sorts in any of the apartments, no matter who resided in them.

Andy sat next to me, his legs spread so far that I was squashed to the end. Serj sat on the floor, his legs sprawled across the shag carpet. Daron and Shavo resided in the kitchen, once again making drinks with whatever was left.

"You look like a drug dealer with the pager hooked on your belt loop," Andy noticed the pager attached to my pants, laughing at me.

"Oh, fuck you," I let out a small laugh. "It's just so I know if the owner of that venue calls me."

"He better," Serj paused, pursing his lips as he often did while he was in thought. "Shavo!" He called into the kitchen.

"Yeah?" Shavo pushed Daron, not even glancing into the living room.

"You gonna make posters? For the show? You can put them in bars n shit, maybe even at the record store." Serj ripped a baggie of pre-rolls out of his pocket, toying with the zip-lock part of it.

"Yeah, was plannin' on handing out flyers too." he poured vodka in a glass, along with some cherry soda. Daron quickly chugged the liquor, gaining a pretend bitch slap from Shavo. "Dickhead!" he whisper- yelled.

☆

Shavo scrawled out the date, the time, and the price below the large graffiti lettered "System of a Down" a atop the paper, which he planned to make photocopies of. I was to go to local bars and wherever else would allow me, to hang them up and hand them out to whoever would take them. We had to sell a minimum of 150 tickets in order for the show to happen, and we were all determined.