Unexpected Miracle—Part 2:
As I leaned on the counter and buried my head in my arms to sob wholeheartedly I felt one of Meg's hands stroke my head in a slow, soothing manner.
"Aw, Ariel, come on. It's not that bad."
"Yeah, I barely remember any of the people I sleep with."
"…"
"…Not a good thing to say right now?"
"No, Pete. No it's not."
"Right. Sorry." He paused. "Ariel, do you need anything?"
I swallowed to try to make my voice sound less hoarse. "Coffee, please?"
Peter let out a sigh — one that silently told me that he really didn't want to say what he was going to say — and put his hand on my shoulder, rubbing it with his thumb.
"Hun, you can't have coffee for a while. It's not good for the baby."
Despite tears running down my cheeks, I felt one of my eyes twitch. Damn it, I hate this child already.
Well — maybe not hate, but I'm still not allowed to drink the Nectar of the Gods (a.k.a. coffee) because of it.
So, since I couldn't indulge in my favorite drink, I decided to try and regain my composure. I took deep, calming breaths, in and out, and tried to get some control over my emotions. A few minutes later, my chest wasn't hurting, the tears weren't overflowing, and my breathing got a little bit calmer. I stood up straight, wiped my eyes, and looked at Meg and Peter.
"I think I'll get going now," I said softly.
"Are you sure?" Meg looked concerned.
"Yeah," I nodded. I fished through the pockets of my green skirt and put a five dollar bill on the counter.
Peter looked at the money, then back at me. Then he snorted snootily and folded his arms across his chest.
"Your money's no good here Anderson." He smirked at me playfully.
Feeling my eyes water, I smiled. "Thank you."
"Don't mention it."
I exited the store and started for work, which was this new restaurant that Belle, Jasmine and I worked at, as waitresses. It's owned by this guy names Krunk, who's also the head chef of the place, and has it named after him. He's not all that bright really, almost to the point where he gets on your nerves, but he's a friendly enough boss, and he makes one hell of a Thursday Special. (Besides, he must be doing something right to keep his business going.)
Honestly, being a waitress wasn't part of my plan. I mean, the pay is okay; it's enough to help pay rent in the apartment my friends and I share. But I don't want to be a waitress forever.
My primary goal is to become a professional singer. I don't want to toot my own horn (well—not too much that it seems rude), but I have a good singing voice, if I say so myself. It's just one of the few things I'm good at. It should be obvious that I would pick a career that puts my talent to use.
I guess that dream will have to be stalled…again.
Sighing, I picked up my pace and continued my walk to work, passing by the hustle and bustle of Skid Row, of downtown Walt Lake City, where the apartment complexes are dilapidated, yet still expensive to rent. Where the jobs are mediocre at best and the chances of getting a high paying career is from minimal to none.
The kind of place everyone wants to escape from…
The tune of a piano starts to reverberate through the air, making me pause.
My eyes suddenly caught sight of a middle aged black woman, who walked out from an alley, wearily carrying brown bags in either hand. I quickly recognized her as Eudora, the mother of Tiana, my manager at Krunk's.
Then, I saw a group of five black women, all clad in creme colored clothes, leaning on the brick wall of a building, the tallest one of the group holding a smoldering cigarette. They watched as Eudora walked out, looking up at the sky sadly. She opened her full mouth and
Eudora: Alarm goes off at seven
and you start uptown.
You put in your eight hours
for the powers that have always been.
Calliope (of the Muses): Sing it child.
Eudora:Til it's five p.m.
A man holding an empty wine bottle joined in, his baritone voice saying:
Then you go
Eudora and the Muses:
Downtown
Where the folks are broke
You go
Downtown
Where your life's a joke
You go
Downtown
When you buy your token, you go-Eudora: Home to Skid Row!The Muses: Home to Skid Row!Another wino: Yes, you go
Before I knew it, as the music (which oddly came out of nowhere…) picked up, everyone was joining in! There were some people I knew, and others I didn't really know, just saw in passing.
[Hercules] The Muses:
Downtown
Aladdin (scowling at a cab that blatantly ignored him):
Where the cabs don't stop.
The Muses:
Downtown
[1940's Pinocchio's] The Coachman (from out a window):
Where the food is slop.
The Muses:
Downtown
ALL:
Where the hop-heads flop in the snow!
Down on Skid Row!
The Muses and other Women:
Uptown you cater to a million jerks
Uptown your messengers and mailroom clerks
Eatin' all your lunches at the hot-dog carts
The bosses take your money
And they break your hearts
I couldn't help but smile wryly, because the song was so painfully true—especially about the "break your hearts" part, only with me it's often been both bosses and boyfriends.
Men: Aaaaaaa
The Muses:
And uptown you cater to a million whores
You disinfect terrazzo on their bathroom floors
Your morning's tribulation, afternoon's a curse
And five o'clock you head
WINO #3:
By subway
Before I knew it, words rose up in my head, and became vocal:
Downtown
Where the guys are drips.
Downtown
Ariel:
Where they rip your slips.
ALL:
Downtown
Ariel:
Where relationships are no-go.
ALL:
Down on Skid Row!
Down on Skid Row!
Down on Skid Row!
Down on Skid Row!
Down on Skid -
Down on Skid Row!
Down on Skid Row!
You wouldn't imagine the failed relationships I had to go through in my young life…
Now that I think about it, if I keep this baby, who will be the father? I don't even know who its real father is. That night in the club is so fuzzy and vague. I remember that it was dim, as most nightclubs are, and a handsome face that had the most beautiful eyes I'd ever seen.
With a sigh, I continued walking, joining along with a group of fellow urban citizens, who continued singing in melancholy:
Ariel:
So I live...
ALL:
Downtown
Ariel:
That's your home address, ya live
ALL:
Downtown
Ariel:
When your life's a mess, ya live
ALL:
Downtown
Ariel:
Where depression's jes' status quo!
ALL:
Down on Skid Row!
Somehow, my feet took me down an alleyway, where at the end was a metal fence, like bars in a prison. I gripped the fence and looked up pleadingly at the sky.
Ariel:
Someone show me a way to get outa here
Cause I constantly pray I'll get outa here
Please won't somebody say I'll get outa here
Someone gimme my shot or I'll rot here!
{italics are for Ariel's parts, and bold is for everyone else's parts}
Show me how and I will,
Downtown
I'll get outa here
There's no rules for us
I'll start climbin' up hill
Downtown-
and get outa here
Cause it's dangerous
Someone tell me I still
Downtown
could get outa here
Where the rainbow's just a no-show
Someone tell lady luck
when you live...
that I'm stuck here
I then moved out of the alley and leaned on the wall, clenched fists at my side.
Gee, it sure would be swell,
Downtown
to get outa here
Where the sun don't shine!
Bid the gutter farewell
Downtown
and get outa here
Past the bottom line
I'd move heaven and hell
Down town
to get outa Skid
Go ask any wino, he'll know
I'd do I-dunno-what
to get outa Skid
Downtown
But a hell of a lot
to get outa Skid
Downtown
People tell me there's
not a way outa Skid
Downtown
But believe me I gotta get outa
ALL:
Skid Row!
In a matter of seconds, once the overture was done, all of us were blinking at each other, looking as bemused as I personally felt. Then everyone was on their way, continuing with their day, leaving me to stare into space.
Well, that was…interesting.
Usually it's an Elton John song.
I shrugged and went on my way. Sometimes it's good to have some variety in a day as mundane as one in the city life.
Despite the song though, it wasn't enough to get my mind off my problems. In fact, it just made me more aware of my problems…
Such as how I'm going to tell my friends and family about my new condition.
A scowl automatically formed on my face. Crap.
All I can say for this is:
Thank you, God, for Little Shop of Horrors. And campy 80's cult hits in general (coughRocky Horror Picture Showcough). xD
Disclaimer: That being said, I do not own the rights to the song Skid Row. (which is sooo addictive! Listen to it. Now.) The song belongs to the creators of The Little Shop of Horrors.
Note: if you listen to the song (and/or are familiar with the movie), you'll notice that I cut out some of Seymour's part. I didn't do it because I hated Seymour (you kidding? I love that little geek), it was because his part wasn't needed. I guess I could have had someone else sing his part, but that person wouldn't have been any significance to the plot, so Seymour's part was unnecessary here.
So yeah, there will probably be random songs in this fic. I mean, it's Disney. It'd be a sin not to have a random music number put in there somewhere.
I have a good idea for the music, but send in suggestions if you want.