Transparent
Introducing…
Sixteen-year-old Zara Ammon sat on the ratty old pea green-colored couch in the white paint-cracked shaggy orange-carpeted living room of twenty-three-year-old Akeem Hiram's apartment. While she chomped on pink Bazooka Joe gum, she twisted a curled lock of her short black-dyed hair around the slender pinky finger of her left hand with the talon-like fingernails painted a rich crimson hue. Her purple-hued eyelids were closed contemplatively so that the store-bought fake long electric blue eyelashes rested gently on her faultlessly smooth bronze cheeks.
Tonight Zara and four of her friends were going out partying. Akeem would be their ride.
"Hey, Chomper!" Akeem said loudly to state his annoyance as he came into the den from the bathroom, fixing his red-polka dotted yellow bowtie and running a hand through his straight maroon-dyed tresses, glaring over at Zara with his piercing emerald eyes.
Smirking, Zara stopped chomping roughly on her gum and opened her eyes, revealing pools of Caribbean Sea blues, to look over at her elder friend, and then burst out laughing as she pushed off from the couch and stood, turning to get a better look at him. Her blue eyes scanned Akeem's choice apparel of brown cargo shorts with extra buckles below the pockets and the light blue button-down Polo shirt with the short-sleeves torn completely off. Then moved down to his falling-apart pink All-Star sneakers worn with the tongue hanging out with a broken shoelace on the left shoe. Lastly her gaze drifted up to the red-polka dotted yellow bowtie, and his slicked-back maroon-dyed hair.
"Well?" He asked expectantly, a lop-sided smile on his maroon-lipstick painted lips.
Still giggling, Zara nodded approvingly. "You'll either knock 'em dead, or get arrested by the Fashion Police. You must be breaking at least six Fashion No-No Regulations."
Skepticism flickered across Akeem's lop-sided smiling expression as his emerald eyes scanned Zara's chosen outfit. Zara's attire wasn't much better, as it included black leather capris frayed at the knees with red faux feathers sewn along the hems at the sides then her skimpy Granny-Apple Green Polo shirt with the short-sleeves shredded to tatters along with the bottom hem, and with pink then orange sequins embroidering a Hibiscus flower painted over each of her small round breasts with acrylic paints, and lastly glimpsed her orange and white-striped Adidas flip-flops. Then his gaze moved back to meet hers and it was obvious by his amused expression what he would say next.
"If I'm only breaking six, you must be pushing a dozen." He said while also smirking.
"Shut up. We're works of art." Zara decided, then turned and headed for the door. "Let's go rob a museum!"
"That's a metaphor that means 'let's go pick up your friends.' Right?"
"Right!" Zara declared loudly as she opened the door and smiled at Akeem's elderly neighbor in the doorway of the apartment across the hall. "Ms. Scat-Cat!" She greeted the elderly woman, who looked shocked and appalled by Zara and her choice of clothing.
Hearing the exchange, Akeem rushed forward and quickly pulled Zara back into his apartment, while smiling charmingly at seventy-year-old Mrs. Freedman. "H-hey. Sorry about that. My sister hasn't had her pills yet this evening… She's a bit crazy without 'em…" Mrs. Freedman gave the twenty-three-year-old a doubtful once-over look then hurried inside her apartment. The dead bolt could be heard being moved into place at the same time the door snapped closed. "Sorry again!" He called after her, and then rounded on Zara. "You can't do that!" The lecture began, "Scat-Cat is on the Committee-thing that can kick me out of here!"
Zara scowled at him. "You are not my brother," she grumbled, pushing past him and continuing down the bottle green-carpeted hall.
Akeem bit his lower lip, having known better than to lie like that. If there was one thing that touched a nerve within Zara, it was talking about her elder brother. All of her close friends knew about Corbin Ammon, and Akeem especially knew about him, having grown up best friends with Corbin and been with him when he was killed in that car accident.
Once upon a time, Corbin took care of Zara, practically raising her as their mother was always too drunk to and since they didn't have a father to speak of. Corbin had been a good kid, getting fantastic grades, being popular and highly regarded by all social cliques, and always had time to spare for his little sister and a smile reserved for only her.
The night he died, he had been driving home six of his friends from a party. All six, including Akeem, had been too wasted in one-way or another to drive. Corbin didn't drink, do drugs, or even smoke. He set a great example for his little sister, whether or not she was there in person to see him.
None of them, not even Corbin, saw the oncoming car headed right for them. Corbin had been distracted by one of his friends, and by the time he saw the opposition, it was too late. He swerved, and the car was hit broadside, killing him instantly and severely injuring two of his friends that were in the back seat. The three others in the back all escaped with minor injuries. Akeem in the passenger's side seat was left with a broken collarbone as well as three fractured ribs.
Yet Corbin didn't leave this earth alone that New Year's Eve three and a half years ago. The driver of the opposing car had been drunk, a man in his forties along with his tipsy middle-aged wife. Both also died instantly in the crash.
After that, Zara's mother's drinking worsened, and Akeem took over caring for Corbin's little sister. Surprisingly, Zara didn't blame him for any of what had happened that night three and a half years ago, although Akeem thought he deserved the nonexistent hatred. Instead, she grieved for a week then continued with her life as though nothing traumatizing had happened. Her blithe attitude had mellowed slightly and she didn't smile as often nor laugh, but nonetheless she seemed to be the same old Zara as when her elder brother had been alive.
Akeem caught up with Zara in the elevator. Zara smirked at him as he stumbled through the closing dark brown doors and right into the cracked-mirror wall opposite. Catching the smirk, Akeem smiled at his many reflections in the shattered mirror of the elevator walls while observing his terrible outfit and fingering the hideous bowtie as he straightened. A small frown replaced his smile.
"Brown so does not go with yellow or red."
"This is Hollywood," Zara stated. "Who knows? Tomorrow everyone might be wearing vintage shorts and ugly bowties.
"And if not?"
"You should take advantage of your originality while you still can."
"Are you saying that when I'm thirty I can't be original anymore?"
"No! That's not what I'm saying at all!" She watched his reflection in one of the shards of mirror as she continued, smiling brightly, "I'm saying that when you're thirty, originality takes on a whole new meaning. By then you can wear anything, because all the new generations will have already screwed up fashion, and by thirty you'll have found your center. Y'know, your fashion sense."
Laughing, Akeem nodded agreeably. "Just think of if I showed up at my work wearing this, though."
Zara joined in his laughter, "Mr. Boss-Man would love that! Someone else would be wearing a hideous bowtie! He would have finally made a friend! Just think of the bowtie parties you two could have, with bowtie pasta and…"
"Geek." Akeem interrupted in a good-natured mutter as the brown elevator doors opened.
Still tittering and mumbling possible things to do at a bowtie party ("Pin the bowtie on the Boss-Man!" Zara announced happily to a passing couple that gave her strange looks before quickening their pace) the pair exited the dilapidated apartment building and right away found the decrepit red Firebird out in the parking lot and got in. While Akeem started the car and began pulling out, Zara played with the radio until she heard some tunes she liked and stopped to relax back in her seat and sing along with the old time tunes.
"I'm a real wild one, an' I like a wild fun. In a world gone crazy, everything seems so hazy. I'm a wild one. Ooh yeah, I'm a wild one…"
"Gotta break it loose," Akeem joined in as he took a sharp right turn out of the parking lot, cutting off a silver Jaguar and fishtailing into the right lane. "Gonna keep 'em movin' wild. Gonna keep a swingin' baby. I'm a real wild child…" He trailed off as Iggy Pop continued blaring from the speakers and out the rolled-down windows of his Firebird.
Two years ago, when Akeem bought his car for three hundred dollars from the front yard of a ramshackle house in Los Angelos, Zara had taken the liberty of naming it Putter, for the odd noise his Firebird made after it had been running for more than half an hour. The name still stuck.
By the time Putter reached Lynn Fair's house, six and three quarter miles away from Akeem's apartment complex, Rage Against the Machine's "Ashes in the Fall" had taken the place of Iggy Pop's "Real Wild Child" and was blasting from the speakers to a deafening degree as the four sixteen-year-olds came out of the white-sided house with green-paint finish. The platinum blond-haired blue-eyed Lynn Fair was in the lead, flanked by the auburn-haired green-eyed twin siblings Anna and Andrew O'Connor, as well as the neon pink-haired bright blue-eyed Ricardo Cordero.
With the appearance of someone with strong Hispanic heritage, Ricardo enthusiastically shouted along with the music as he approached, while the others cringed at his shrill baritone. Lynn in particular looked annoyed, while Andrew and Anna smirked knowingly.
Ricardo was dressed in orange cargo shorts with slits cut up the sides and the buttocks completely removed to reveal his neon yellow boxers with Smiley Face grinning. Then wore a skin-tight violet spandex shirt with the quarter-sleeves also sliced up and decorated with random accessories pinned on allover, including rubbers still in their small square plastic packaging
"A mass of tears have transformed the stones of now, sharpened on suffering, and woven into the slings! Hope lies in the rubble of this rich fortress, taking today what tomorrow never brings!"
"Shut up! Will you?" Lynn shrieked back at him.
"Like ashes in the fall, like ashes in the fall…" Ricardo trailed off as they reached the car and Zara turned down the radio as she opened her passenger's side door and got out, at the same time observing her friends' attire and grinning at their choices.
Lynn wore the most contemporary outfit. Electric-blue fishnet stockings clung to her stick-like legs then knee-high lace up black boots with crimson fat-laces covered her tiny feet. A black miniskirt hugged her narrow hips, then a black fishnet long-sleeve shirt with an electric-blue Wonder Bra clearly visible beneath completed the apparel. All of her make-up including eye shadow, eye liner, lipstick, and lightly-applied blush, was crimson, while black and red streaks had temporarily been added to her straightened platinum tresses that was left down tonight. The crimson straps of a thong were just visible, pulled up high on her shapely hips and over the hem of the black mini.
Anna wore a short red kimono-style dress with black, white and pale pink lilies printed allover. Then lime green open-toe strappy high-heels were on her feet and she clutched her small lime green handbag like a bomb was about to go off inside it. Her auburn hair had been pulled high in back into a tight bun, with four decretive chopsticks sticking out of it, while her make-up included only peach-scented clear lip-gloss, red eye shadow and black eyeliner, then pale pink blush applied to her high cheekbones.
Andrew wore all black and baggy clothing. Including his unadorned black tee shirt, sagging black jeans that were worn low enough to partially reveal his black boxers, then his black high-top sneakers with black laces. Black eyeliner outlined his large oval eyes and black rubber bracelets littered his forearms. An intricate red and black band-tattoo spiraled around his firm right bicep and twisted under his shirt's short-sleeves to leave to the imagination where the permanent design ended. His short auburn hair had temporary black streaks and was slicked back, but would become disheveled by the time they reached where they were going as his wild curls usually did.
Zara's gaze lingered on Andrew's all-dark garments and a slight frown replaced her grin momentarily, before her gaze moved to Ricardo and the toothy smile was back in place. At the moment Ricardo's sky blue gaze was elsewhere, lingering on the partly cloudy and smog-streaked starry indigo skies of this night while he hummed along with Bob Marley's "Night Shift" that had just replaced Rage Against the Machine's heavy music.
"The gang's all here!" Zara announced happily, her Caribbean Sea blue eyes moving back to Lynn Fair, who smirked at her with a holier-than-thou expression. Ignoring the superior look, Zara turned from her friends and stooped to push forward two-door Putter's passenger's side seat and then straightened so her buddies could climb in the car past her. "In we go, my young artwork!"
While Lynn, Anna and Andrew clambered in the backseat of the Firebird, Ricardo paused beside Zara and offered her a CD, with Ricky's All-Time Best Hits written in permanent black marker over the cover of the thin CD case. He grinned persuasively at her, showing off his straight pearly whites, and Zara got the message as she accepted the CD.
"What's on here?" She asked, turning the case over.
"Bit of everything," Ricardo replied nonchalantly, climbing in Putter's backseat after Anna. "Put it on number three!" He called over Bob Marley's vocals as Zara put back her passenger's side seat and slid in the car then slipped the CD in the detachable CD player Akeem had bought at Best Buy for forty-seven dollars and had installed for eighty-two dollars a year after buying the Firebird.
A moment later, the Beastie Boys were screaming through the speakers, and Ricky was shouting right along with them.
"Will someone shut him up?" Lynn whined.
"Because mutiny on the bounty's what we're all about," Ricardo ignored her. "I'm gonna board your ship and turn it on out! No soft sucker with a parrot on his shoulder. 'Cause I'm bad gettin' bolder – cold gettin' colder…"
"Seriously…"
"Terrorizing suckers on the seven seas," Andrew joined in at the same time as Zara, while Akeem chuckled as he sped away from the curb and soon exited Lynn's home's neighborhood. "And if you've got beef – you'll get capped in the knees!"
Lynn made an annoyed growling sound that went ignored by all.
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Disclaimer: I own nothing but this plot and all Original Characters. All brand names are copyrighted to the companies that manufacture them. Still have a problem? Let me know so I can remove this story.