Long chapter yay! Like always, please ignore how awful my attempts at writing in the lyrics are. If you do I will pardon the 90% that don't review or follow. I just don't get why people don't follow stories they like, it's so much easier than checking for new chapters manually. Sigh. Oh well, review. They make Christian feel better.
Christian: *glares*
Me: What? You obviously have self-esteem issues if you can't ask out a girl you've loved since kindergarten. Seriously, you're attractive and popular amongst The Class of '13. What's the deal?
Christian: You write my actions. You control me.
Me: Shit he figured it out...
"Sorry about Angel." I said to Gloria on the bus after school the next day. We didn't have a meeting that day. Tyler came to school high and got kicked out. Theo had plans to go stalk people and Jason finally asked Annabel out. Gloria invited me to her house. All of us were getting lucky that day.
"I don't care." Gloria said staring out the window. "Bitches will bitch and I'll bitch right back."
"Did you just use bitch as a verb?" I asked.
"Yes. That was me bitching at you." She said smiling at me. Gloria was that good. "So how often do you smoke?"
"Tobacco, herbal, or other?" I asked. Gloria shrugged.
"All three." She said.
"I'm not a huge fan of crack. I don't do tobacco because of how bad it is for you. I mostly stick to pot and heroin." I said. "You?"
"Nothing." Gloria said. I stared at her. "Yet. I'd like to wait."
"For what?" I asked. She shrugged.
"The moment when I've decided I've been waiting long enough." She was that good. "So. St. Jimmy."
"Yeah." I said. "He's basically my older brother. My dad really."
"You're that close?" Gloria asked.
"He taught me how to play guitar." I said. "Jimmy gives me drugs for free."
"Damn. You are close to him." She said. Everyone knew you had to be close to Jimmy in order to get drugs, let alone get them for free. "That would explain your sick guitar skills." Nobody used the term 'sick' anymore. But when she said it, I liked it. "Wish I could do that."
"You don't play?" I asked.
"Not guitar." Gloria said.
"Then what do you play?" I asked. She didn't seem like a drummer chick, and I couldn't see her playing bass.
"Piano." Gloria said. "Since kindergarten."
"That's cool." I said.
"You think it's lame." She said.
"No."
"Yeah you do. But I don't care."
"I want to learn how to play piano. So I don't think it's lame."
"But you're Christian Armstrong. You play guitar, bass, and drums. You learned all three of those from St. Jimmy, who gives you drugs for free. You are the poster child of the underbelly children." Gloria said. "If you play piano, it's cool. I've never drank or done drugs and you only wanted me to join The Class of '13 because you think I look good in eyeliner and a leather jacket and I have a nice ass."
"How did you know I thought you had a nice ass?" I asked.
"I can see your boner when I wear skinny jeans to school." She said. Gloria was that good.
"Your point being?" I asked.
"I'm not one of you guys." She said. "I'm a white rose dressed as a weed. Saints and sinners don't mix well."
"Look, I didn't invite you to our club because of how hot you are. I brought you to the Underworld because you are you. There's no one else that comes close to being Gloria." She smiled a little. "If you can teach me piano, I'll teach you guitar."
"Really?"
"Yeah."
"Deal." We shook on it.
Gloria lived on 8th Avenue, better known as "the Ave." The neighborhood was really awful. Broken glass from various bottles and windows scattered the streets; along with trash, empty cigarette cartons, and condoms (used and unused). There was a pair of Chuck Taylors hanging from a phone line. We came to a liquor store and I got nervous. I heard stories about the liquor stores on the East Side. And a gun shooting had just happened at the one Gloria chose. I stopped when we came to the parking lot.
"What?" Gloria asked.
"Nothing." I lied following her into the store. An old black guy with only a few yellow teeth and a grey sweatshirt stood behind the counter. He smiled when Gloria walked in.
" 'ey Gloria! How you doin'?" He asked.
"I'm fine J, thank-you for asking." She replied. "You know the drill. I give you the money, you give me the mereh-juana." Gloria said placing a twenty on the counter. J looked at her for a moment.
"You serious?" He asked taking the money. Gloria burst into laughter.
"No. Just the usual." She said. J laughed with her.
"I thought you finally decided to join every other kid in town on the drug boat." He said nodding towards the aisles. Gloria began walking down one with various wines. She ran her finger tips along the bottles. I stood by the counter awkwardly.
"You know I don't want to do them." Gloria said.
"The kids or the drugs?" J joked. She shook her head laughing.
"If I'm going to do drugs, I'm going to do them right." Gloria said. "I just want to wait."
"We'll Miss G, you know I've got the goods." He said. "Doesn't get much better then my stuff."
"I'm sorry, but I found a different pusher." Gloria said. J looked confused.
"Who?" He asked. Gloria swung around into the liquor aisle. She walked down it, then came to a bottle of scotch, picking it. I knew what she we going to say.
"St. Jimmy." J slammed his fist on the counter.
"Now I know you're playing with me." He said.
"Nope." Gloria said smiling. She grabbed two packs of cigarettes and some mint gum. She nodded towards me. "Christian Armstrong."
"Really?" J asked me.
"Yeah." I said nodding. Gloria elbowed me in the ribs.
"You're kind of famous here in the hood, I mean East side." She whispered. "And I suppose that I'm going to be famous too. He got me into The Class of '13."
"And you still won't do drugs?" J asked. Gloria rolled her eyes.
"Bye J." She said heading for the door. I followed behind her. We came to the corner of Stuart and the Ave. A set of seven story buildings stood there. We went into the first one. "Sorry, I'm on sixth floor."
"That's fine." I said. Gloria and I took the elevator, even though it looked roach infested and smelled like sex. The lights flickered and awkward elevator music played softly. The doors opened, even though a tiny part of me wanted us to get stuck there for a few moments. Gloria led me to apartment 21B. She pulled a key out of her bra and unlocked the door. A pale blonde figure wrapped in a blue blanket sat on the couch. I thought it was Gloria's sister.
"Hey mom." She said setting the scotch and box of Camel on the table in front of her. Gloria kissed her mother's forehead. "This is Christian. I told you about him, remember?"
"Oh yeah." Her mom said turning to face me. "Hello Christian."
"Hi." I said.
"Mom, we're going into my room." Gloria said. "I'm going to be giving Christian piano lessons and we'll be talking and stuff. So the door will be closed."
"Gloria..." Her mom began.
"We will be chatting." Gloria said. "All clothing will remain on and we will not be having sex." I stood there awkwardly.
"Okay, you win." Her mom said after a moment. Gloria grabbed my wrist, I could see "for hope" written on hers. She led me to her room. "If he tries anything use the rape whistle I gave you." Her mom called.
"Okay!" Gloria shouted closing the door behind her. I looked at the photograph next to her bed. A man dressed in a decorated solider uniform standing next to a girl- who had to be Gloria- in a black and white dress with her blonde hair swept up neatly in a bun. "Oh yeah, that's my dad."
"He fought?" I asked looking at the picture more closely.
"Iraq. One of the first troops sent out there. Six years he fought. Bullet to the head, they tried to save him, but you know how that goes. It was right before Thanksgiving. 'Killed in action' is what the letter said I think. Either that or 'failed lobotomy'." Gloria said. I got an awful feeling in my stomach. Gloria only looked about nine or ten in the picture. She was wearing makeup and heels, so I couldn't really tell. "That picture was taken the Christmas before he was killed."
"I'm sorry." I said.
"Yeah. I was a real Daddy's Girl." She trailed off crossing her arms. I looked on the other side of her bed. From the wall to the bed, stood a wooden piano. I was expecting a keyboard. I walked over and picked up some sheet music. All of them were nameless.
"You write stuff?" I asked.
"The music. I can't write lyrics." She said. "I hear beautiful music in my head all the time, I try to work out the tune and put it on paper. Whereas lyrics... Nothing."
"What about the other day?" I asked.
"The idea of 'know your enemy' has been in my mind for so long, but I knew that it couldn't be on piano. You guys just knew what to play." Gloria said. I shrugged. I read over the piece in her hands.
"Hey Gloria
Are you standing close to the edge?
Look out at the setting sun
The brink of your vision
Eternal youth is
The landscape of the lie.
The cracks on my skin can prove
As the years will testify
Say your prayers and light a fire
We're gonna start a war
You're slogan's 'a gun for hire'
It's what we waited for" I sang. Gloria looked at me, then her music, playing again.
"Hey Gloria,
This is why we're on the edge
The fight of our lives been drawn to
This undying love"
Gloria wrapped up the piece lightly.
"How do you do that?" She asked. "You just come up with lyrics like that."
"Music is easy for me." I said shrugging. I took a pencil and began writing in the lyrics for her song. Gloria looked at the title.
" '¡Viva la Gloria!' Why'd you pick that title?" She asked.
"It means 'long live the glory' in... Spanish I think. It's also your name believe it or not."
"Sarcasm unneeded." Gloria said. "Do you want to start your lesson?" I was about to say yes when I saw one piece of music with more than notes. I grabbed it out of the pile.
"What's this?" I asked holding it up.
"Oh. That." She said taking it from my hands. "The first piece I've ever written with lyrics. My dad told me the story about the day he met my mom and continued it until the day I was born. The way he talked about love in all of its forms, it just inspired me. I added more when he told me how hard it was to leave us. Then when he was talking to my mom on their anniversary night and I was eavsdropping, I wrote more. It's kind of a love song, but it can mean a lot of things. I gave up on it after his funeral, but it still gives me hope."
" 'Last Night On Earth' ?" I asked. Gloria shrugged.
"The last time I ever worked on it was the day he died. I added in the melodies. The title just came to me after he died." She said setting it down. "No more questions."
"What if it doesn't have to do with music?" I asked. Gloria raised an eyebrow. "Oh, that's a question."
"It depends on what you're asking." She said.
"Are you an artist?" I asked.
"How'd you know?" Gloria said. I pointed to her walls, filled with music notes, poems, and graffiti. "Oh yeah."
"And I saw spray paint in your backpack once." I added.
"Stalker." She joked.
"Whatever works." I said. Gloria labeled the piano keys and taught me the octaves. It was a short lesson, but she was a good teacher.
"Maybe tomorrow you'll be able to play Hot Cross Buns." Gloria said with a smirk. I rolled my eyes.
"So just get to the Underworld a little early so we work on this." I said. She nodded.
"I'm going to bring some of my music and paint." She said. "You guys are in desperate need of good graffiti." Gloria grabbed a few pieces of sheet music and handed them to me. "Try and study these. I you have a keyboard, practice them. Okay?"
"Okay." I said. She glanced away and I snagged Last Night On Earth from the pile and shuffled it in with what she gave me.
"I'll walk with you." Gloria said.
"Not everyone knows you're my friend yet." Her town was that bad.
Her fingers danced across the keys. The music from our old wooden piano echoed off the concrete walls of the Underworld. Gloria had a way of just making things better. After ten minutes of practicing she pushed me off the piano bench to practice '¡Viva la Gloria!'. She'd grown to like it. A few people started showing up when she was singing though it the third time. Just as Gloria finished I began with the part I'd added the night before.
"Gloria! Viva La Gloria!
You blast your name in graffiti on the walls
Falling through broken glass that's slashing through your spirit
I can hear it like a jilted crowd"
Her head snapped up and her jaw dropped in a smile. Gloria got up from the piano bench and pulled paint out of her backpack.
"Gloria! Where are you Gloria?
You found a home in all your scars and ammunition
You made your bed in salad days amongst the ruins
Ashes to ashes of our youth"
She began spraying on the wall. It was a thousand times better than anything the rest of us had ever tried.
"She smashed her knuckles into winter
As autumns wind fades into black
She is the saint of all the sinners
The one that's fallen through the cracks
So don't put away your burning light
Gloria! Where are you Gloria?
Don't lose you faith to your lost naiveté
Weather the storm and don't look back on last November
When your banners were burning down
Gloria! Viva La Gloria!
Send me your amnesty down to the broken hearted
Bring us the season that we always will remember
Don't let the bonfires go out
So Gloria
Send out your message of the light that shadows in the night
Gloria where's your undying love?
Tell me the story of your life ...
Your life!"
Gloria's face fell after a moment. She walked over to me.
"Thanks for writing a song about me." She said. Gloria hopped on her bike and rode away.