PLot Outline/Structure:
Lester fantasizes about rock n roll icons and attractive rock gods, illustrating his attraction and obsession with a certain brand of 1970’s rock icons. something that would come to define him, at the tail end of his wacky prophetic dream about Flea as Genie granting him the wish of having his lies come true when woke up. His dream itself isnt written about in detail later.
Story opens at the middle point on the plot and Lester at rock bottom, as he wakes up drunk after the night where he was intergated by the cops after being busted for his money luardering job and and ending up telling his worst and most unforgivable lie, that his boyfriend of 10 years, Wally, was his crimnal accomplice and made a deal to get him sent to jail in his place.
Then we go and flashback what really happened last night, first lester cuts the deal for the devil, for his cohesered integration confession, lying that wally his boyrfeind was his crimnal acropolis, luardering money for the mob, later, as he is heartbroken to repent for his betrayal he visits Wally in prison as he wally obviously dumps, him in aheartbreaking conversation through the glass on prison phones and relzing wally’s rich dad who cut him off wont be paying his bail so he’s stuck in prison for lester’s crimews. Lester relizes he’s lost everything because of his lies and begins a drinking binge. Lester finds himself in a all time low drunk delrious state, and peices back together the prior night and how exactly he got there. including breaking into red hot chili pepper’s backstage of the barkley center right before they went on stage (On their 5th world tour, as this part is in present day, as right now in real life their on tour.) and he was extremely drunk, and delrious as he snuck past the distracted bouncer, and after drunkleny yelling that they know him, degranged, reminding them that he was their rohie and he “knows them” obviously the band tried to throw him out right away, but in a unexpected moment of redemption, Flea who he idolized the most and had the most crazy fun times with on tour back in 95’, and flea remember’s him by name but the band brushes it off, as “oh silly old flea” and The bouncer tosses Lester to the curb.
Flashback to Lester’s backstory growing up being the black sheep of his bigoted, classic 90’s working class, chip on their shoulder pressuring family, in new jersey, as he grew up being bred to be a failure, and the origins of his self hate, shame and other issues. As he grows up, his family hated him and were very embarrassed by him being a gay, stonner, rock n roll obsessed, junkie who would worship rock gods and dropped out of junior year of highscool, because he was to rebellious and dumb, basicly kicked to the side of the road and spit at since the momment he relized who he was. But it also talks about him always living the shadow of his two brothers. his parents where grooming to be super sucuffull rich respected dopctors and lawyers, Blake and cliff who were only a year older then him.
telling how his brother blake really raised him, how he was the only one he was close with, talking about blake standiung up for and protecting Lester and sharing a passion for being misunderstiood and rock roll, he even took Lester to red hot chili peppers concerts, his favroite band, and bonded over the band, Blake basically was the only person in Lester’s life who acedpted him and was on his level, it was them against the world.
The tales of Blake in princeton, hating it and experincing all the shock of ivy league collage life in the 90’s and complaining about it, and the origin of how Blake first met Wally, his first friend at princeton, and Lester’s future boyfriend, as Blake had first introduced the two at college party in the fall of 1995.
Lester and Wally kiss that night and fall madly in love, and the next chronicles the honeymoon stage of their relationship, as Both of their parents find out there together, and their so comfortable with themselves and each other at this point, that they basically said “screw you were happy together you can kiss my ass!” to their parents who never really loved them, Wally drops out of Princeton and moves in with Lester who moves out of his hotel room in new jersey, after making enough money from his new band, gross indecency, that him and wally helped create playing roadside gigs, but Wally stole his father and brothers trust funds, and many embezzled charity funds his father hadn't hidden very well, as well as all his gay affair blackmail money Wally actually had millions so they used that to buy a fancy townhouse in new york city and made the big move in the spring of 96’, as well as several comedic relationship milestones, deciding not to get married because thats what society wants, went through their crazy rebel phase, they have sex for the first time to the sound of the song common people by Pulp nextdoor, a song about “Common people” that they could really relate to alot. Lester taking acting classes from a con man/excommunicated morman priest in new jearsy to learn how to act, to try his hand at an acting career after several of his indie bands failed and broke up, to prove he is good at somjthing he just hasnt tried evrything yet but it swifty turns into a cult situation and learn the acting class is more of a con artist class to learn how to impersnoate others and master identity thef...where they start to indocnate Lester at his most confident, that the only way to be truly happy or make money or survive is to become somone else and master the art of deception, something he sneaks off weakly to do and hides from wally.
Wally looses most of his money and so does Lester, Wally finds out lester is in the “acting class”/cult and basically breaks in and get’s him out not knowing he’ll never really be the same again, having been forever brianwahsed to want to be someone else and lie as the only way to survive being baked into his phyce and forever insecure in a way he wasnt before. (this will be important later)
5 year’s, the year 2000 Wally and Lester have been happily together for 5 years now, newly broke and clueless Lester moves into a bundling falling apart in harlem, run by Rudeski (jim cerry) the old Drummer of gross indecency Lester knew from his circuit days, who was now a sleezy landord who houses tons of homeless vagarants, hustlers completalty for free and pays off the cops and just takes care of them. all the drifters in his giant scaffolding buding ready to collapse at any moment, Rudeski also supplies all the drugs and booze you could want, he also preformed nightly in he abandoned ball room. They moved into a detrianted flatt, but Wally loved it’s grimmy dangrouness despite what Lester feared. with a few cooky roomates who they ended up living with a good two dedcades until present day when they story starts.
5 wacky roomates that take some getting used to included: Minty Hennesy (played by margo robbie) a very successful porn star and sex worker with her dim witted lovable shugar daddy Merb Hinez (michel sheen) who is rich from being born into the hinez ketchup fortune but Merb is too dumb to spend the money on anything but fancy mink coats and presents for Minty. As well as Lenny and Benny Cloud, the “Cloudy Twins” (played by key and peele)
This entire time since wally dropped out and they both moved to NYC, Wally and Lester visit Blake often in princeton and three of them only become closer and more tightly knit over time.
This from 95-2000 is the peak of happiness for the three. You know then things are going down from here.
One night after Lester starts sleeping with other guys for money and their relationship is a tiny bit tense, Wally starting to relize Lester has…changed and is acting weirdly and differnet in the aftermanth of leaving the cult.
Blake sends them a letter from princeton (Yes it was 2000 people still sent letters email wasnt that prevent yet) saying that he was dying, he did in fact have 4th stage lung cancer, and he haddent told his parrents, brother or anyone at prinston becuase he knew they would treat him differently. he had hid it all this time and only told Lester hoping he’d visit him in new jersey in his final days. This breaks Lester’s heart and he/the story will never be the same after this point.
Chapter one: Master of his fate.
He fantasized constantly about the previous generations' musical meat. About majestic stage lit gyrating men in loose floral tops, their V necks cutting down their hairy bead hanging chests. Who were thrusting and pouting their massive lips as they gently plucked a base getuar. He dreamt of their booming bases and stage diving right onto his blushing and blinded face, crushing his arms in being washed away in the sea of screaming bodies. He got on his hands and knees and begged his rock gods to never wake up.
Lester woke up, bathing in fettid filth, waking up alone and bewildered to the symphony of honking, sirens and unloading garbage trucks. Lester’s glazed eyes rattled in his flushed head wiping his boozed lips. The sun hit Lester’s unshaven chubby face as he blocked his eyes, failing to sit up on the upholstered sofa next to heaps of hot spilling trash on west 14th street. Shit. He was late as a rabbit he could tangentially tell by the sun in high noon he had missed it. Lester bumbled pulling up his goodwill cargo shorts up to conceal his finite butt crack, and zip his fly only to find alas, the zipper broke. What happened last night, he didn’t want to know, likely an appearance in the background of some salacious tabloid photo of a bar fight or some new celebrity's secret thrupple.
Lester, was hazy and mauled by his dizzy weak stranglehold on reality as he stumbled and tripped his way through downtown attempting to make it back home to bear the brunt of the burdens of his aftermath. Afterall though he was more hungover than prohibition, he could still faintly remember, through the endless maze and thickening fog of his endless and contagious lies, he knew that he had still committed the cardinal sin of his life, of which he could never be atoned, lying to get the love of his life sent to jail. As he leaped into traffic still blinded by the dry unrelenting sun at high noon, and the pulsating ringing in his ear, his vein on his forehead near ready to pop like a balloon, he almost was hit by 3 taxi cabs and almost caused a serious multi car pile up, yelling and cursing him out in many languages as he bounded to the curb, all the way to 12th street, bumping into people and only realizing he was barefoot. Lester barely had time to curb in his scattered stride. He had stepped on several broken bottles, cigarette butts, other people's brand new Yeezys, and burned his bare soles on the flamin hot pavement.
Lester could hardly believe the dream he just had that he recalled far more than any other dream he’d ever had, primarily because it seemed feverishly and impossibly real, but it just couldn't be. Obviously trying to justify and make sense of a dream is a futile quest even for the wisest of chaps, of which Lester dicicdily was...not. The dream perchance to dream, ey there’s the rub, as Lester’s chaotic rum-soaked mind shuffled off the mortal coil of strange shakespearean references, overflowing streams of consciousness, and very painfully delusional fantasies forever blurring the line between reality and fantasy, fact and fiction, truth and lies, the constant thesis of lesters life, though he was quite the sympathetic dolt, he was also one of the worst yet most consistent pathological liars you will ever meet.
The dream he assumed was just another wet dream, or drunk or drug trip he was still recovering from, was in fact highly suspicious as it was the kind of dream that would haunt you so deeply and profoundly, truly getting inside every fold and facet of your head. Lester tried to comb through and make sense of the dream he had just had, but to no avail. Most of all, Lester seriously questioned if what was implied and went down in that dream, could it really be...real?
He desperately needed to go through the day enough and find the police station where he was sort of trying to get to eventually, to turn himself in after massive guilt tripping after lying to get the love of his life, his boyfriend, Wally, falsely arrested on his behalf after a cohhersted, false interrogation forcing him to implicate Wally as his criminal acomploplis, even though he actually was not. Now Wally is rotting in jail in Lester's place. Even though he wrongly assumed, Wally’s daddy whom he hates, could make his bail easily, But that’s not what happened, Wally’s dad cut him off and he couldn't make bail and was forced to serve the 10 year sentence in a maximum security prison.
It was on this fateful night when Lester visited Wally in prison one last time, but he was assuming his rich daddy had bailed him out by now, and Lester wasn't too worried, but little did he know that couldn't have been further from the truth, and part of him knew that this, his dad sent them an official letter that said “I will not be attending your funeral or giving you another penny until that day.” But Lester was still extremely guilty but he didn't want to think about what he had done anymore, because then he would just fully lose himself in the guilt, so he just swallowed and walked into the door to Rikers, his lawyer had advised against this. They met to discuss legal matters 2 weeks after Wally's original arrest.
Where the cops detained him at their home in harlem, as he was vacuming the floor and playing a vinyl record of the song “Roxane” by ironically, the police. A somber reminder as it was one of Lester favroites bands. They voinclty cuffed him and pushed him on the floor in his own home in front of his horrified roomates and furious hustlers downstairs yelling, protesting and throwing cans and bottle caps at the cops at the cops, Rudski couldn't buy them off this time, they never even read him his rights, or explained what he was being arrested for. They just said “You know what you did, you scumback, you had this a long time coming!” Wally just screamed hysterically. “Lester, baby, help!!! Where are you, this is injustice. I did nothing wrong, whatever i'm being framed for, I have an ironclad alibi, my father will sue for bad publicity! WHat did I dOOOOOOO, Lester HEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEElp MEE! Please!!” Wally hysterically screeched fighting the police forcefully dragging him in handcuffs down the stairs, It was quite dramatic and tragic, Lester had been “gone” the last few days worrying his friends as where he’d been for so long without even so much as calling or texting them, in 2022 you don't just go missing out of nowhere, but really he was being integrated by the cops, and finally succumbing to egestion and personal failing he ended up lying to set in motion this positively wicked series of events.
Meanwhile Lester could be found as his second home, the bar on west 4th st.
As Lester stared off the bar counter and saw a beautiful man in a gray fedora who looked just like Wally, he turned his head…it was not wally, Lester sighed and slumped and gulped his jin. as he kept talking to his lawyer, as that was why he was there.
“Wow, Lessie, baby! You’ve gotten into quite the crock of shit this time, eh’ Bernie said after hugging Lester and giving him the classic european double kiss.
“SO dude, we gotta take this to court then, like right now!”
“Don't do it, Lessie, you know the ex has grounds to sue.”
“Don't-call him that, Bernie, I will never stop loving him!!.”
“Well, I doubt Wally loves his prison cell right now yet, here we are.” Bernie says looking catty and right as he sipped from his reflecting scotch glass.
“Oh my Shit Bernie! Like dude what do I do now! I totally had to take that deal, and like their bad cop worse cop routine was so fucking convincing, I should have pled the filth, or somthi’n, danm it, this is so un-rock n roll!”
“Please! those new cop slime balls coerce half the confessions that get passed down to the to the jury, how do you think they mass incarcerate so many iconcent people, most of em’ with of a picture shade! The system is fakakta Lessie, Ive been a prosecutor for 30 years and the red tape I had to swim through with some of these dirty cops, you would neva’ belive sweetie, alright!”
“But I have evidence, like they recorded the entire thing dude! and it’s true they kept me in that pig-stye integration room for 3 days without food or water, that has to be illegal or something, right? You could charge with indecent starvation, I was really hungry man, and those chimps gobbled fresh mac and cheese right in front of me, I could smell it and everything it was torture!”
“Lester bubbie, you don't understand, this kind of horseshit happens every day with suspects in custody ok, I would need a miracle to get the cops to admit to a false confession, it would open the floodgates and that’s a lawsuit not even warren buffet can afford. and sweetie you did still commit a crime! And then you’d be admitting to lying under oath, and that’s just a mess we dont need right now, ok? Trust me, you're lucky you got off easy, you could have been charged with a class B felony, money laundering, that’s 25 years, almost always without parole. Ok so you sold out your partner to the cops, and lied in the process, take it as a blessing, look at you, your free!”
“but…I love him, he’s my whole life, nothing else matters, plus he’s innocent. Dude that’s like, Just hard core, I’ll never be happy again, I should visit him in prison, he’s probably so mad and confused and getting tons of unwanted attention from his pervy cellmate, He probably thinks i'm a snake, that I betrayed him on purpose, but I literally can't believe this, he’s like…all I have, we were gonna be together forever, we had plans to adopt a turtle bernie, a turtle!!!”
“Look Lester Ive been your lawyer for, what? 30 years and back in your band days, you got into a lot of shenanigans but this, this is criminal. How could you be running dirty money for all this time Lessie, to the casino for god sakes for the mob!? Oh! You're breaking your mother’s heart Lessie, I mean why didn't you stick to the Touring, with your old bands, your fans loved you all the clubs and the lights…why’d you have to get into that criminal stuff, huh? I mean despite what you think you're a good boy, Lessie, sweetie you don't need to do all this stuff, so why…why did you do it?” Bernie said soberly, resting his hand on Lester's cheek, knowing getting Lester to answer wouldn't really change anything.
“Well, you know Times are hard, with the pandemic and the fact that after all these years were still dirt poor, ive been written off, written out, assumed to become nothing but a bleeder and a felon, that's the prophecy-”
“Huh, Is that your new song?”
“It’s just something that i've working on-”
“It’s good, I hope I can hear it before the demisnia kicks in!”
“You know it’s true though, man we came on tough times, really rough, I was trying to stay sober, to stay faithful dude, life in your 30’s living with a bunch of 20 something barbie doll hot roommates who are so street savvy and confident despite the fact they all have nothing, it’s just so screwed up!” Lester rambled as he swigged back another shot as he beeped and rose his hands to wave over the bored and dead behind the eyes bartender
“Another round! Put it on my tab” Lester ordered as the bartender rolled his eyes knowing Lester’s bs, he spent more time serving him free drinks then he would like to admit, and like most 20 something bar tender’s in nyc, he hated his life, and had zero chill, his name wasn't important he was just a hand serving drinks for him.
“Another round! On my tab!!!” Lester brashly yelled thinking he hadn't heard him.
“For the last time Lester you don’t have a tab!…I don’t get paid enough for this shit” The bartender just crossed his arms over his black apron, Bernie just gushed, a bit embarrassed at Lester’s clear alcoholic unprofessionalism. Bernie just assured the poor man he would pay for his client’s drinks, again. Lester feverishly gulped the rest of the shots of strong vodka no doubt and just looked down. All Bernie saw was Another lawsuit in the works.
“Aye bubbie, take it easy, it’s only 1 in the afternoon! You know Lester, honey I think you need a hobby or something…you like tennis? You know evryones a miserable drunk, after they fuck up, but we all hit rock bottom at some point, your not so special! Look, You're gonna be just fine!?” Bernie put his arm on Lester’s shoulder but he swatted him off and slammed his 10th empty shot glass down on the oak bar counter forcefully. Wiping his mouth and growing teary eyed.
“But I’m pathetic Barry-!!”
“-Bernie dear…” Bernie sighed, smelling his boozie breath and oozing pity.
“I'm just sitting here, drinking my emotions, and…and pouring out my soul to my lawyer! Dude! Do you know that I never even knew those guys were working for the mob! Like all those years, Ming and Kim just told me they needed help with their business, it’s just all kinds of screwed up, Those bastards! they lied to me!” Lester pleaded in vain. Half falling off his bar stool, losing his balance, all drunk and infantile.
“Well you lied to a lot of people Lessie; all those strangers, your lover, yourself…it doesn't feel good does it?” Bernie said looking Lester right in the eye as he twisted a toothpick in his mouth, finally getting real with his client. Lester’s eyes widened as he leaned back and looked suddenly eleinetented to his own follys, growing a thick new layer of awareness, Bernnie leaning back with subtle anticipation, to see what Lester was really taking away from his council.
“I know what I have to do now…” Lester said dramatically
“What? go home?”
“No…I gotta visit Wally in prison, I need to make things right.” Lester whispered, sounded so certain and determined yet so profoundly misguided, Bernie also rolled his eyes, knowing Lester too well by now to be surprised, Bernie was all too aware that one lester had an idea in his head, no matter how unfavorable, inappropriate or just plain wrong it was, you could guarantee nothing could stop him, or change his mind, “here we go again” Bernie thought, but knowing at the end of the day, Lester was a good guy at heart, and he had worse clients who were truly evil, who he knew would be bailed out by their rich companies forthwith regardless, plus, dispite his insanity, at Bernie’s age he quite enjoyed spending time with Lester, as well as baring witness and playing aid to his screwball personal life. But that being said he had to throw out his best legal advice in this situation.
“I need to go there and apologize for what i’ve done and then somehow you know i'll scrounge up the dough to post bail, and then he’ll have to take me back, ill never lie again and I’ll win him back if I have to do something else to get arrested myself! So I can be with him, even if its in prison, I have to because if I dont I’ll never forgive myself. Ok thanks bernie you're the best, you always know what to say. Ok wish me luck” Lester said as he drunkenly stumbled to leave the bar.
“You want my legal advice lester?”
“Yeah, you want me to make things right, own my sins, and repent, right?”
“No! NO! Honey, Lessie i'm not your priest, I’m your lawyer, ok and your paying me, someday I hope, for my council, well baby, here it is: do not take this to trial, and for the love of god, do not visit Wally in prison! Ok? Don't try to beg for forgiveness or dig yourself deeper in this hole, just leave this mess alone and try to move on, ok? Your free you dont relize how lucky you are, you’ll forgive yourself and move on soon enough, sweetie we all fuck up, its ok, use your freedom to trun your life arrond, just go home, take a nap, sober up you know, I can recommend all the best AA groups in the city, cash your disability check watch a movie, even get back into music I’m sure you could start a new band, I know you live with your old bandmates, I know your first drummer rudksi is your landlord, honey you have friends, a full support system you know, I know you can get back on your feet again, I’ve seen you do it before after your band broke up, after your brother died, you can do it again! But bubbie you gotta let it go ya gotta let him go, ok because I dont want to be on the case if you got arrested again or god forbid drink yourself to death and wind up dead in a river by the fucking mob! That's just too much paperwork. Oy vey!” Now it was Bernie's turn to order a drink. He was growing gray hairs in this conversation, and he was pushing 70.
“But Look lester you’re a good guy ok, I can't say that for most of the scumbags I represent ok, so please, for me, do it for me, just let him go!” Bernie pleaded, with rare emotional investment and concern that bordered on the unprofessional.
“No Bernie I need to, I need to see him again, he’s probably so scared, you know prison is a far cry from the prissy new england opulence he’s used to, he’s so kind and fragile, all I can think about what I know their doing to him in there, and how he probably hates me now, and is so confused and alone, like DUde, im sorry like I have to do this i have to, i need to see him again, I need to, ok I cant move on, move on to what? He was my whole world, ok you know how many songs I wrote about him, I cant survive without him, how will I remember to brush my teeth or to read the fine print on my taxes, or have normal, vanilla non rock n roll sex, I need to go see him ok, it’s been two whole weeks, this has been tearing apart my soul, ok, bernie I cant sleep anymore, I cant leave the house or the bar, my roomates think im gonna get drunk and fall off the fire escape, their worried about me, Ive been ostriszed by the undergound clubs they think im a hazbin, crimnal before I ever even got famous and my life is falling apart, not all the lies in the world could convince people that its not, ok, I gotta go see him right now!” Lester finished ranting and raving begging to become less and less in touch with reality and slip into a mental state enhanced by his now highly delirious severely intoxicated state that he had barely escaped his whole life, but his past, inner demons, lies, regrets had finally caught up to him. Lester knew though his inevitable downfall was entirely his own doing, which only further muddied his conscience and he felt the song Hurt by Johnny Cash come over the bar radio.
“I gotta go now, Bernie”
“I wouldn't recommend it” Bernie sniped, grabbing his arm, but letting him slip out the door, to make another bad, destructive decision, as Bernie just sighed.
Lester stumbled out of the bar realizing he didn't know where the hell Rinkers island is. He was almost too drunk to stand, but his ironclad liquor tolerance kept him on his feet, he knew that once it all worked out between him and Wally Bernie would understand and know he did the right thing. In his fantasy version of life that is, where no matter who he hurts and no matter how much he believes his own lies things will all magically work out perfectly in the end, to prove all the naysayers wrong just like in the movies or in the best rock songs.
Wally had only been in Rikers 2 weeks after he was arrested. But in case Lester was wondering…no, Wally is not doing too well on the inside right now. He was actually freshly out of a full 5 days in the infermery for being beaten to a bloody pulp by prison gangs, everyone thinking he was a mob pawn and using him to send a message to the actual mob who controlled a lot of the prisons from the inside and had seemingly infinite connections. Especially the big mob boss, Papa Puchi who had murdered apoxomitly 300 new yorkers in the past year alone and was as feared as the plauge, he had no mercy and had hundreds of money laundering rings arround the city, who got all the dirty money back to him, just bloating his massive empire that seemed to rival even the russian and irish mob presence in nyc, the italian mafia was now more powerful than Al Capone was in the 20’s. Yet Wally lost the teeth, took the punches, and got the stitches that Lester should have…but even After Wally figured out what Lester did to him, he wasn't mad, although he was heartbroken, of course, not because of what Lester did or where he was, but because Lester wasn't in his life anymore, and Lester was the only good part of his life…so he didn't even care for so long that all he did was lie, but this lie was the last straw for wally, and he would have to break up with him. he was no prison bride, and he knew Lester would spiral after this, he had always feared that, but he knew lester brought that on himself, he tried to get him to tell the truth, convince him time and time again, that he didn't have to lie anymore. Wally just hoped eventually Lester would realize, tha the truth was enough.
But this was it, he didn't want to let him go, and he would always love him, but he decided he couldn't stay with him if he kept lying, it was tearing everything apart, he knew this was it, but he didn't want to be, Wally desperately wanted to go back to a decade ago when they first fell in love at princeton, when everything seemed so wide, and Lester and him where happy, the one rare time where Lester was himself, just true, unaltered and assured like he realized for one brief moment that he was thriving being exactly who he was, with no money, no fear and no lies. As Wally lied on his cot in his dark, frigid jail cell, staring at a small spider crawl across the ceiling, as he counted seconds tentatively listing to a leak in the ceiling drip, drip, drip into the hard stone floor, as he wondered what to say and how to say it. He now was counting the pounding seconds and dreading his encroaching fate, of when he would have to break the news to Lester, when he inevitably visited him today, against his lawyers free advice. Wally just hoped for a miracle now.
“Wallace Bishop!” Barked the prison guard from outside the cell.
“Ye-yes!” Wally stuttered nervously as he sat up with a jolt, hitting his head on the low, rock hard ceiling.
“You got a Visitor” He said as he smirked in an unnerving way, as he unlocked his cell door waking his sleeping cellmate, and shoving him down through the prison yard , making him walk real slow to get his fair share of taunts and threats from fellow inmates in the prison yard, until the finally passed through the ajajcent prison cell block, with more prisoners throwing banana peels and used condoms at his head, the guard knew they would so he encouraged them to be more ruthless this at Wally. suffice to say he hadn't made any friends. They spit and growling at him like a cell block tango of enraged foaming baboons in an unhinged zoo. That was also a devolving hall of mirrors. As they yelled:
“You know we gonna fuck you up later tonight, white boy!”
“I HOPE YOU TELL YOUR LITTLE FUCK BUDDY WHAT WE DID TO YOU LAST NIGHT, NOT SO PRETTY NOW!”
“Awwwww, Daddy can't post bail now, baby! Sorry rich boy you are stuck here just like the rest of us!”
And most harsh of all.
“He doesn't care about you, he sold you out, you think he still cares about you out there, he's probably screwing some otha’ rich boy right now! Ha you know they neva change right!?, ha, they are all liars and cheats, you ain't special!”
The guard threw Wally aggressively into the cheap formica prison folding chairs at the phone station, behind a plastic looking glass wall where he expected Lester to walk past the metal detector and the prison visitor guarded checkpoints. Wally was holding his breath with nervousness and anticipation he had before he was beaten his first night in prison and was seriously hardened and withdrew from everyone to survive on the inside. But Wally still maintained his dignity and delicate intellectual charm, and all other Wally Bishop classic staples, even without his fedora and white scarf, and without lester. But honestly despite the fact he held his head high and fought to not lose himself in the ultra masculine rough cold prison environment, it just made him more of a target. He choked thinking of what he would say to Lester, he knew he needed to break up with, but he still missed him so much it hurt and just wanted to see his face and hear his goofy stoner voice again. Suddenly as he tried to ignore the loud aggressive phone conversations happening all around them mostly filled with swears and threats from inmate’s with menacing face tattoos and sharpened teeth and scars on their eyes and necks, and hand pierced faces, bellowing and bearing their teeth at all their baby mamas and blackmailing boyfriends and whatnot, But that it all drowned out when a drunk, emotionally naked lost looking Lester, with glazed over puppy dogs making direct eye contact with skinny sweet wavy haired Wally smiling so wide when he saw him, first time he smiled in 2 weeks, probably longer. Their eyes met right away, as Wally gasped and his heart began to race, wishing he could just break out of his handcuffs and burst through the plastic phone wall and give him a long wet passionate kiss and never let him go, both of them now clinging so tightly to each other's fantasy. Lester looked the same as when Wally had last seen him, clad in his same black classic red hot chili peppers shirt, his patched up olive military style punk jacket, very loose jeans with a studded belt and dangling chain, his dog tags and a half full bottle of sam adams poking out of his pocket, but he was a lot thinner then he was, and he looked more pale. Lester just smiled and failed to hold back tears when he saw him, Wally, the love of his life, sitting there in his little orange jumpsuit, his forehead lined with scars and messy stitches, he had so many noticeable bruises, and a bold black eye. Lester couldn't even imagine what they had done to him, poor sweet Wally, he didn't deserve any of this. Lester ran frantically over to the phone and snatched it up and yanked its cord, his hands shaking half dropping it on his lap. He almost couldn't speak, overwhelmed with joy and guilt, and a million pounding feels.
“Wally…” Lester gasped, straining for breath as he stared into Wally's bruised and beaten face and his dark purple black eye. But his thick bruises did not conceal Wally's big beautiful mesmerizing blue eyes, that Lester got lost in all over again.
“I…I really missed you” Wally said weakly, hearing his strained, shaky voice. Wally put his hand up to the plastic board, chinking his stretched handcuff chain linking him to the floor, and Lester did the same, meeting his hand, covered by a fingerless glove, still shaking and almost dropping the phone propped just below his quivering lips. But as he looked into Wally’s eyes, the guilt consumed him.
“Wally…Im so sorry” Lester whispered as he hung his head in breathlessly shame he began to break down in tears. The same tears he’d been holding back all day, feeling unable to look him in the eyes again, letting the weight of what he’s done and the scope of it all finally catch up to him in full, as he got weird looks from other aggressive inmates on the phone around them. But Lester was just a man at the end of the day, a very sad damaged man with many regrets and a fading song in his heart he’d forgotten the words too. He just bared his soul and could no longer be defensive or hide, as he wiped the tears from his face.
“You know darling, I’m just glad to see your face again, but just know despite it all, I’ve moved on quite nicely, there’s no spice in staying bitter, I mean I of course was quite distraught as one would be, naturally, I assumed the worst but once I figured what exactly was going on, trust me darling I wasn't the least bit assuaged, all I turned for every night is for you to come back and sweep me off my feet on your stolen Harley and go back to the way things used to be, pherhpas a pointless nostalgia but surrounded by these insccsient brutes your just the gentlest Saraph by comparison, though I’m serving this sentence in your place.” Wally lamented, and seemed to just be stalling now for the inevitable hard truth he would have to bring up, but for now he just wanted to look at him, and relish in how sorry he was and how he didn't look very good, he knew he had not been well for a while, a part of Wally always feared and knew that Lester would get caught in his criminal habit. Wally felt a tight pinge of guilt, when he began to overthink the fact that if he’d just helped Lester get a real and job and convince him that he could make money and help support them by doing something other then secret money laundering, even though all his bands broke up and never were successful, and Wally was always the primary breadwinner from years of working almost full time at a the new york public library and as an archivist for Columbia but they were primarily living off his remaining inheritance from his grandfather and money he’d stolen from his father’s school accounts after he cut him off officially from his fortune in 96’. But Wally knew he shouldn't blame himself, Lester never had many skills or means of surviving financially, without his brother or Wally but he always hoped he’d sometime find a way out of that life, but even with Wally’s constant affirmation and reassurance Wally never believed he was god enough to do anything or make in this world. A world that never saw him as anything more than a washed up stoner who’s bound to end up behind bars. But that really doesn't excuse his actions, and after everything that happened Lester seemed to finally realize what he was doing wrong and was deeply sorry, but it was too late. Suddenly Wally winced at a very familiar cent rising from Lester.
“Darling, your Drunk.”
“What, No, I just drank the average, normal amount, um you know, um!”
“Darling you're stench it says it all, you smell positively asinine. I know you drank your weight in chap vodka. Just like you did after your brother died or last summer when you turned 30, or let me guess, last week when you got me arrested. I’ve lived with you for 20 years, you think I don’t know when you're on another binge, you can lie to the masses, darling but you can't lie to me.” Wally asserted stiffly, staring into lestered hollowed, baggy, and crusty eyes.
“Wow man…yeah what would I do without you to remind me that I’m a fucking missibele drunk that everyone can smell
Wally obviously has dumped him over the prison phone. But now with new engligment Lester had to make things right, and turn himself in, in wally’s place. and also see if the Genie from his Dream’s wish he granted him in the dream he just had, was really true and if Flea from the red hot chili peppers was really a magical deity who made it so every lie Lester told magically make every lie’s he’s ever told and any lie he’d tell from that point on forthwith, would magically, mystically, somehow all become totally true in real life. Flea, Lester’s favorite member of his all time favorite band, whom he worshiped like gods and was always wore his black red hot chili peppers classic t shirt on a daily basis, and he constantly fell back on the fact he used to be a roadie for them in the mi 90’s, everyone says that’s when he peaked as well as the looming fact that at the very time of these events, the red hot chili peppers where on the NYC leg of their world tour. So to influence the dream perhaps, A drunk, recently dumped and trainwreck he broke into the backstage area of madison square garden right before the chili’s were about to go on stage. Lester snuck past the bouncer and security guards with a chap distraction the band obviously yelled for them to throw lester out, another drunk crazy fan about to cause a scene and now of course trespassing in their green room, yelled drunkenly that they should remember him from 97, when he got high with them on tour, as their “favorite” rodie. obviously the rest of the band scoff and orders the bouncer to throw him out, but in a peculiar moment of mysticism, in this shocking turn of events, flea st opped in his tracks, eyes widened and did admit, as he swung his guitar around and loudly proclaim in his raspy voice “YES, Lester Flatt! I DO remember you, man you were a crazy son of bitch back in 95’-” the band just laughed it off, as another one of flea’s cooky antics. And of course the bouncer kicked our boy, straight to the curb. Later that night, after having a spiritual experience with flea, shocked that he remembered him and giving him the same mysterious unikbalimble look he gave him at his green room drug fueled parties that Lester still remembered like yesterday. He thought that Flea would influence his dream. He thought about this after getting up bloody, from the curb he was just tossed too like trash outside the barkley center as he could faintly hear they begin to perform their first set, as “give it away” blurred and boomed. As we wondered away from the stadium it began to rain as he looked up at the fevered night sky, with his blurring vision, and loosing grip on his empy bottle of jin he was on the brink of letting it drop and skatter into a thousand glass shards. As he began to cry at his life seemingly falling through his fingers like sand, he fell to his knee’s hitting rock bottom, not to prey, but to beg as the cloud’s filled the pitch black new york sky, never a star to be seen, but Lester gought a glimse of a airplane make it’s way across the sky, Lester knew it was a shooting star, he closed his eyes and made a wish.
After a night of aimless wondering almost as directonless as his life, Lester finally drunkenly passed out on a couch on the side of the road.
Being spit on, he fell into his own mind until the next morning.
Suddenly,Lester just awakens from his dream of flea granting him a wish to justify and canonize a lifetime of lies…and it just seemed to good to be true.
Lester immediately deeply regrets when he relizes what he did to wally, and cried thinking how much he regrets it and wants to get him out of jail, by turning himself in. His memoryof the inetergation came pouring back. Like most integrations, this one was highly corrupt and cohersed. Lester was a notrious liar so they cops had to troture and foce him to give up an acropolis to his longstarnding money laundering indevor, after all he was so unskilled and useless he was completely unqualified and incopnitent for evry consible job or career, expect once being a rodie for the band, the Red Hot Chilli Peppers, back in the 90’s, his only lame claim to fame. Lester, due to being 30 years old living 3 decades in the past of rock n’ roll, being known as a jack black look a’ like, being fat and overly goofy and unable to take anything seriously, a high school drop out from new jersey, who was homeless through most of his twenties and currently lives of welfare in a delaptaed, under construction condo, as a squater being let to stay there for free in a gutted apartment, with a massive hole in the floor exposed pipes and dangerously not up to code stairs and fire escapes, with a littony of homeless hustlers and drug adicts on all other floors and a history of sleeping with the “landlord”, and super, Mitchy, who takes care of the wayward youth and broke people squavling pushing against the margins of soocity and of corse lying and paying off the cops. Ceaseless to say, Lester was not the most...impressive guy, so him turning to a life of low tech petty crimes was trully his only option, or at least society, and its big mean overwhelming and leaching influence, convinced him that he’s incabible of being or doing anything else but laurder money for a shady local laundromat run by naborhood mob sobs, Ming the manger and Kim his even shadier henchman, and manager who pretends to speak less english then he does to avoid questioning.
For 5 years Lester worked for the chinese luandrmat guys every day, his “bosses'' who paid him below minimum wage to transport quarter stacks to the local casino, and cash chips and bring back the legit case twice a day, Lester’s main appeal: he’s so petehtic and impossible to take seriously, no one would ever suspect a thing, last guy you’d ever assume to be a mule. Also they fully expected him to take all the beatings, do all the dirty work and if caught would never crack or snitch because he’s just too dumb, sadly in the act of underestmating him, they also lied to him, saying for 5 years that they were NOT working directly for and under the mob, as you’d have it, actually they were.
As all this was going on, the cops had been bundling a case on the various mob fronts for months, and chose this today to move in on their sting operation, ending in Lester getting arrested in the sting for transporting money in a stolen van.
But, of course, this was lester were talking he didnt know genuinely he was all this time, doing favors and working for the mob, but of corse as a liar by nature no one believed his ass, and why would they? Of corse, by as was stated earlier, this is how he landed his ass in an intergation room for 3 days, of corse most time, as all cops know, most fools in Lester’s position have a partner or accomplish their covering for, Alas this one single time, Lester actually was’nt lying, since they already had all the chinese laurndmatt mob pawns in costsody and were charging them, Lester was stuck in the inerrgation room with no food or water or lawyer for 3 long days, and finally after the police and interagators pressured and pushed Lester hard, and said things like “we KNOW you have an acropolis” “the mob KILLS pepole” and “were already charging you for money laundering and the stolen van AND working for the mob, you really think we buy for five year you DIDNT KNOW who you were working for, bull-shit! look no one is worth protecting, no one is worth rotting in jail for, plus we know they did much worse offense than you!”, finally they offered him a deal, if he gives up his “acoplis” he will get to walk, on 5 years probation, because the cops believed the acropolis was out there reporting what happened to the actual mobsters and killing off witnesses of lester, of which there were many. They said if he didnt give up his, totally, completely, real acopmlis, now backed into a cornner Lester basically had no choice, though he knew the only thing he thought or convinced himself that he could do, he would never be forgiven for and would make him like a incredibly unreedmble, shitty person.
Dispite his predlection for fibbing and life of petty crime, and having no tallents or basic skills whatsoever, Lester was, actually a good person, and he loved his boyfriend, Wally with all his heart. he had been living with Wally in new york for over 10 years, and despite how crazy and disappointing his life is, he always had Wally to come home to and no matter what, as long as he had him, everything would be honkey dory. Howver, in the intergation room, at the end of his rope, given on elast chance at “giving up his murderous acoplis” to the cops, and Wally was the only person in his life who knew about his long term secret involvment money luardnering, he lied to everyone else in his life, (witch was just his roomates and his boyfriend) that he worked at a CVS pharmacy. for five years he’s successfully lied about his secret crimnal activity, to all his crazy roommates, all 7 of them. You’ll soon come to realize though Lester does and did lie to everyone else in the whole world about everything you could possibly lie about, expect wally, he could never lie to wally. Because he’s the only one who could always see through the bullshit, and often earnestly tried to convince Lester to quit lying like cocaine that he has nothing to prove and he’s amazing and dosnt need to lie anymore, and loves him for who he is, of course Lestser never actually believed this, he’s openly said often, if he didnt lie, there would be nothing left, he’s so much of a loser, lying is the only way to get anywhere in life and just survive, and that if you lie enough and say things enough times, people will just forget that their even lies in the first place, and it will just...BECOME TRUE?
Remember Lester’s broken philosophy and failed justification here, it will be very pivotal later. including at the timas a prolific liar himself about all aspects of his life to get money, respect, pity, and just essinally lied to people who were gullible tourists, or people who didnt know him personally or know if his lying debauchery, which was most of greenwich village at the time. All lester knew was that he was offically going insane and knew for sure his dream, was bullshit, and just that a dream, there was no WAY that flea-gennie really made everyone suddenly believe his lies and have them all just be and haaven always been true, that’s just too crazy to be true, or…is it? There was only one way to find out.
Lester felt he needed to take back his worst lie yet, and see if the police were under Flea's spell, to prove once and for all that he was in fact, NOT crazy, he was’nt crazy, right…RIGHT?
Ok lets back up, Lester’s story would not be one told by a reliable narrator, hence why im here to straigheten up this convoluted and messy account, devoid of all bias and confusing confounding of lies with truth, truth itself is a lie, everyone has their own truth, pure truth devoid of influence is non exestant. However, lets go back, all the way back, to the begging all the way back to see just how things got be this way in the first place, and show just how Lester got into this mess.
Chapter two: Walter Bishop: Love, the only constant variable in this false world.
Lester Mason, had a very boring and forgettable pity inducing childhood. He grew up in New Jersey, some town on the inetrstate that no one could remember the name of, not even Lester, he was born into a middle class, bootsrap pulling family, with many chips on their shoulders, avid social climbers and as strict as they were oppressive. Lester’s two older brother’s, Cliff and Blake whom he lived in the looming shadow of, were groomed by their parents to go the the ivy leagues, and get good job’s and doctors or lawyer’s to bring the family pride, honnor and of corse, income. He was close with his brother Blake, who loved Lestster despite his parents essentially disowning him for basically being in their eyes, useless, shamlfull, embarrassing and pethtic. I mean we was all of those things, they knew he woulnt be sucuffull in a traditional way like his brother’s and they seriously took out all their anger on little Lester, whom they cruelly nicknamed “less” as in Less than. Cliff was definitely his parent’s, pet and favroite son, they loved Blake, but for him actually defending and supporting Lester and being “two close to him '' as well as going to princeton, witch to their parents was’nt good enough as cliff had been attending harvard. But growing up, Lester had one true love, her name was rock and roll.
Lester, of course, smoked weed often, basicly being stonned all the time, thus leaning into his already cemneted lonner, stoner, burnout, dropout loser setroype that he was already being pushed into at the time. Though his saving grace and one personal affect to his yurning, true self was spending all his waking moments listing to rock music from the 60’s and 70’s very loud, to loud for his parents to tolerate thus kicking him out of the house after he dropped out of public highschool in 91’. He lived in various shed’s and couch serfed for guys who didnt even like him, when his parents found out he was gay that diddnt help either. He would spend days locked in his room, blasting Iggy Pop and the stroges, david bowie, but he was most inclined to bump band’s like the kinks, green day, bands more gritty and from newver fresher movements in the turbulent grunge filled despondent 90’s. But, the band he worshiped most, his favroite band of all time, the red hot chili peppers. Lester dreamed of one day being a famous gutairst and singer in a rock n roll band, but since Lester was cursed with no musical tallent (or any tallents in any way), this simply remained a dream for him. Lester could have maybe proven his family wrong and been susfusfull doing…somthing? Though Lester is cursed by not just having no tallent, no education, no money, no respect from anyone, no future or past, he really was made to believe, wholeheartedly he had nothing to offer, he was void of any value he could be assigned, by a world obsessed with conforming to a very peculiar, narrow path of trisidshnoal success, a blueprint Lester could’nt follow, and didnt much want to either, knowing it’s shallow resolve and how he’s alot of things, but boring is not one of them. Has expected to adhere to the following rules and steps of life: grow up to obey and serve your parents, get good grades, date a nice pretty vergin white girl with a rich daddy, go to any ivy league, become a doctor or lawyer with a six figure salary, a porsche, a trustfund, and nice townhouse with a dog and a maid and sending checks to your parents, Chalvel Blanc every christmas, convincing yourself to pretend your not pretending to be happy. Not ever aknaolgae or grapple with the inherent contradiction of being rich and married and successful in the way of the wayward american dream, that you should be happy…so why arrent you, next step in the blueprint, pills in the penthouse and a young death following an empty unffilled, unlived life. Lester wanted to be himself, and have fun and listen to “under the bridge” on his vinyl and escape into his music into his head, he would cry into his pillow most dry dragging days and painfull unrelenting nights and imagine himself living a thousand impressive beautiful lives his parents approved of him and made blake and cliff eat their words.
He’d dream every night and daydream about him as a war hero, winning a purple heart and being honored and celebrated as an american hero, dream’s and fantasies of him being a billionaire phyompist with a legendary party yatt and a robot hotel chain in Japan, a prodocgy profensonal poker player, a homeless blind saint to get pity and money from people who think that will help, and, most of all, an incredibly famous and respected gay rockgod who used to tour with the red hot chilli peppers. Overtime, he blived the only way he could make money or live in this world was by lying because the truth was just impossible.
Lester relized he was’nt smart but he was clever and a danm good liar he lied to tons of strangers about who he was, played all the parts, wishing through these preformces and elaborate scams that he could stay that way forever and never have to wake up to the real world again, and go back to being himself. At times, he believed Lester was the real character. Although Lester's back story is cliche and sad like most, Lester still had someone in his cornner.
As I stated earlier, his brother Blake defied their family’s animosity, rejection, and embarrassment of Lester and always stayed Lester's mentor, and best friend. He even took him to red hot chili peppers concerts on school nights and took alot of shit from their parrents but he didnt care. Blake understood and protected him through their whole childhood when no one else would…but most pivtoval about Blake’s rare brotherly bond with Lester is During Blake's time at Princeton, he had a close friend named Walter Bishiop, or Wally as he called him, yeah, that Wally. You see, Wally was the heir apparent of the prestigious Bishop family, known for owning and being bord members on many prestigious ivy league universities, such as Yale, harvard (where Blake’s brother cliff was currently stationed) and of course, princeton. They also come from a long line of highly educated politician, shcolars have athored many credible studies, even having major stock in the new york times. Forbes magazine even listed their patriract, Dr. Martin Kane Bishiop (the third) the richest professor of 2013. Hailing from the rolling hills of the hamptons and basically having built an empire off being pretentious self righteous ademic snobbs. Wally of corse, was also the black sheep of the family, as he was a lecagy at prisnton and DR. Martin Kane, being his father and the sitting dean of printson at the time, Wally was under an Elphant filled Zepplin of pressure. Wally was very apposed and cringed deeply at his family’s old money snobby intliled brand of inetllgance, he was in his very nature rebelling against it every chance he got. He was on “thin ice with his father” after writing an essay about the sexual apeal of the US milltary that even got him a sholarly grant from libral sorces, but his father threatened to cut him off completely, and that he was on “his last strike.” it was at this point when Wally met Blake at a stuffy lecture on Frued and dated phycoanialis on a very unsepcting friday afternoon. Blake and Wally hit it off right away.
Blake tuned to Wally sitting next to him, just smoking a ciggrete and looking remarkbly unimpressed, his eyes were almost permanently rolled, not doing his notes, like he’d heard them athousand times, inside his dusty textbook was resting a smaller book, it was a book of poetry by Camus. Blake had never seen anyone like Wally before, his sarcastic, repuslusion emmenated from him, he had heard rumors, the dean’s son has a natrious wit, at stuffy college parties, that really spied up the boring vanilla campane serving wastelands, at some professor’s house, where everyone is wants, you to read “their book”, where a bunch of overdressed trust fund babies eats ordervs and debates literary theory for hours, without an iota of self awareness. But Wally despite being forced to thease parties was often the life of them, he even heard a rumor from his lacros buddies that wally even was caught sleeping with 3 of the male mord memers and was even considering black mailing them, Blake’s freind just called him a crazy fag trying to piss off his daddy, but blake fricking love that and felt a certain rembelious tingle when he found out he was in his intro to phycology class. Blake coulnt help stare at Wally, now Blake was’nt gay, it was the 90’s so obviously in new jearsy he had his brief brush with gay’s, in fact consitering he grew up under lock n key, lower class overprotective parents, who probably hated that their own son Lester turned out to be a gay stonner high school drop out, and did honestly seem to hate “those pepole” espcially when they watched fox news at the local bar, and together as a family, Blake even remembered their parents saying stuff like “I cant stand those libral rich democrats who worship satan and bill clinton, their all gonna suck our blood and turn our childen into jeffery dahmer, this is why your not going to libral arts collage.” but despite blake being fairly sheltered and also hating and resenting his parents, a stereotype of all boys at the time, he just was so taken by Wally, he didnt fully know why, what was it about him? Was it his skinny tallish stature, his poised, elegant, loose posture, his limp wristed crossed arms, his blue painted nails, his wearing a devine white scarf swung over his postured shoulder, as well as his white and grey fedora that fit perfectly on his head off wavy matted brown hair, poofing out arround his ears, one adored with a shiny channel single earring that cought the light perfectly in the dimly lit lecture hall. Most of all. Wally kept looking back at him, which is the only time he smiled. Blake smirked and leaned in to wipser under his breath as he sat at the back of the lecture hall. Their first conversation went something like this:
“Hey, is this guy for real?”
“Seems to have the latest point caught in his choke holder-”
“Ha, yeah is he always this…sure of himself?”
“You have no idea, I like to drift into my mind just to keep from dozing off, my mind is one that none of these geyser’s could psycho-anlize, I like to imagine myself a field of daisies, having a gloriously quaint picnic with some man, freespritited and gross and guudy, a crazy hunginged character, you know the type you pretend you do dont fancy, he’d sweep me off my feet and we’d drink strawberry milkshakes and eat lemmon cakes and play chess, without a care in the world, away from the overfed ego’s and ungroomed rich stale bores that populate this place. You know, you can't possibly pay attention to the vile they spew in this place, afterall, Nothing worth knowing can be-” Blake cut him off,
“-Tought. That's Oscar Wilde right?” Wally’s eyes lit up, as he sharply turned his head and blew the smoke from his cigrrtte in Blake’s direcion, as he made a rare face of pleasant surprise, as he slowly leaned closer to Blake, as he raised his perfuecly manicured eyebrow’s and slowly smirked wider then ever.
“Yeah, exactly. Heh, you know that’s the first time anyone got that, you're not like all the other boys here are you.” Wally almost never talked to anyone for this long, as he believed most men here are a colossal waste of your breath and time, but he could tell in that moment that Blake was different, as he responded.
“No i'm actually quite dull in the head, but I'm actually like totally fine with that, unlike all these other guys I’m actually aware of that, one month here they think they know it all, and their money and class they never worked for make them SO superior.”
“Wow. You dont belong at printson, you are clearly brillant!’ Wally gushed the boys laughed and endured a whole minute of inenese eye contact as they hadnt felt this much untainted joy in as long as either of them could remember. They could feel the brewing of a glorious friendship.
“It must be…hard-” Blake indulged
A long awkward, sugestsive puse insured
“-having your daddy as the dean?”
“He’s the most textbook domineering prick you’ve ever seen, even now in 95’ he’s considering running for governor, the world is run by rich white snobs like him. I’m just a footnote, as he has no shortage of fortune sons” Wally said
“Yeah I get how that feel, but my parents were poor as hell, that’s why they made everything about getting me and my brother blake “out” of whoha new jersey, though my brothers at harvard, princeton was’nt even good enough for them, but my brother, Lessie, they made his life hell, they never loved him he’s just the greatest person on earth, id go to war for him, you know he actully just got back from touring with the red hot chili peppers, you know I think you two would really hit it off-”
Suddenly the class went silent as their professor noticed them gossiping during his lecture and called them out.
“SHHHHHH! BOYS! THIS IS NOT A SOCIAL HOUR!!! Why don't you focus on the lecture you have a paper due tomorrow, especially you mr. Bishop, I expect more from you!”
Blake quivered in submission and pretended to be quiet as he turned again to whisper even quieter to Wally.
“Well screw em, you know everyone is jealous that you can tell it like it is, I can already see how they resent you for being interesting.”
“So will your brother be at the Wretched ball this evening on south campus, everyone will be there, if he’s as refreshing as you I simply must meet him.”
“Yeah he’ll be there, I’ll tell him to sober up, you Pinrtson folk are not really his crowd.”
“Touring the world must have been so terribly formative, bring your brother, I look forward to meeting him in the flesh, I hope he sets the place on fire.”
Wally signed and groaned as the old clamping boomer with dust in his veins pointed his long wooded stick as he read from a text-book that was written in 1950 under the einshour administration and used words like “homosexual predelection”, and “phyco-sexual.” Wally audiobly groaned at this, the man coughing into his Monogrammed silk handkerchief, this professor, Dr. Heinz, was a german-jewish tenured psychology professor who had been teaching the same dated and Jung and Frued circulms for the last 50 years, in the same four oak walls with the same dusty globes, towering volumes of unread encyclopedias and casual racism that just fluttered by with chuckle, and same old eager students who had to write notes in slow motion to match the pace of his undulating saggy skin triple chin flaps and wrinkly face tucked in his ruffled shirt front, and patched elbows on his itchy looking brown college jacket from “his days at Oxford back in the good old days, back when men were real!” He smoked an old Tolkien’ pipe and since he was pushing 90’, and would never dream of retiring to the countryside when he could teach kids about “the phallic stage: when the ego is formed” for the rest of his stuffy life. Half the class was expecting this dinosaur to drop dead mid sentence, he never seemed to register he was living in the 90’s anyway.
Lester had just returned from a life changing tour as a roadie with his dream band, the red hot chili peppers. Lester was feeling on top of the world returning like a soldier from war, feeling he’s peaked in life, with endless stories and conquests to tell and slipping into casual conversation at every opportunity.
The next day, on Saturday night, Blake decided to take Lester to the South Campus Ball: a Huge Printson party that all of Blake’s lacrosse buddies were all taking local girls to. They were also spending an obscene amount of money on cheap champagne. But Lester wasn't entirely convinced the party would be his scene, which by now was glitter and tattoo covered orgies in Flea’s trailer in Nebraska, or delirious mosh pits which are more dangerous than an “hands off” fight club. Now that he’d toured the country, he had “standards” for parties all of sudden, something Blake openly mocked.
“Ok, bro, you're coming to the party right? you're not gonna flake out and go get drunk on the bridge and throw shit at people's cars...” Blake said feverishly pulling on a wrinkled white dress shirt, and frantically yanking on his obnoxiously tight pants simultaneously.”
“Dude! Relax! ok I’ll be your arm candy for this posh-college brunch, ok, like I totally get it my bro, you just coulnt get a date in time for the ball-s, you dont have the stage presence to get the groupie’s foaming at the mouth, on their knee’s, not everyone can be a sex symbol, or rock god, you know I WOULD KNOW, after all touring with one of the greatest bands of our time, you have ALOT of experience-” Lester jokingly gloated lying smugly on his side unmaking the perfectly made hotel bed with his dirty doc martins still on. as Blake, still struggling to tie his tie, laughed and sighed at he cut off Lester’s hilarious new world wary ego.
“first of all you didnt “tour with them” you were a roadie, ok dont go, embellishing and make it seem like you were playing right up there with Anothony Keidis for god sakes. And, Trust me these eggheads arrest even impressed by that sort of thing, you know, real music. Look i know this isnt really your scene, dont go being all crass and getting drunk and causing a scene, and regaling these old squares with your conquests of getting your butt pirced or getting high on the Willis tour with flea or any other stories your gonna tell your future children, look my princeton possy are the most boring fucks you’ll ever meet in your life, but they have my balls and my future in a vice, so I gotta do some major ass kissing at this party, alright, alot of deep pockets and guys who are just really, REALLY invested in my education, and my opinion on geopolitics and Proost, who was gay by the way?”
“Really, so was dad” Lester said brashly, as he kocked back another swig of dime store bourbon.
“Look, bro just, try to make an effort, you know your not on tour you gotta try just a little bit to reintegrate into scoity-”
“hmm, I dont rember being in prison, although for me, its only a matter of time, hope you didcide to become a lawyer.”
“No! I just, is it so much to ask that you try to like, take off that leather jacket and those filthy boot’s you havent taken off, since 88’, and maybe wear and suit and tie, you god forbit brush your hair, shave a bit, you know take a shower, you know pretend to have manners, and like just nod and smile at the bullshit their gonna say, you know for me, for your brother, but tonight cant you just be-”
“-Not myself!?”
“*sigh” Blake exhaled, stepped back and looking in the mirroir relizing in that moment, he sounded just like his father. His worst fear, he emedily got on his knees besides the bed under Lester. Now Lester, who was clearly hurt, looked pretty betrayed and solem, Blake was the only one who never talked to him like that. Blake had been the only man in his life who never acted embarrassed by him and treated him like a burden. Blake knew he could never let himself talk that Lester to him again. He feared he was loosing himself, so holding back tears, Blake was emeiltly fully consumed by guilt and remained remorseful.
“Hey bro, I didnt mean that ok. I dont really care what they think, your amazing ok, I’m sorry, I really am. -I’m sorry bro im just under so much pressure right now, and when you were gone on tour, you know I missed you so much, I missed having you always there by my side, to make even the most crapshoot situations fun, come on, I-I love you, bro.” Blake said earnestly putting hims arms comfortably on Lester’s pinned and patched leather shoulders, as he indured a rare moment of vulirblity in that hotel room, having relized that just then was the very first time he said those words, giving lester a full, tight bear hug and lettinhg out a few stray tears. Lester clung to him, after releasing the hug he hung his head, and cracked his classic smile and laughed a bit. a blake patted him on the back and standing up to fassen his new fancy watch.
“You know what, please come in all your fucking rock n roll glory, make a huge, bombasic entrance, in platform boots, and kiss makeup, ok bro! they could never handle you, these poofs listen to beethoven and bach all day ok, I wanna see their moncales popping, dont hold back, I have been drowmning in dust at these things, man your my jesus christ superstar, it’s high time someone raised hell at one of these things, I hope they get pissed off and spend all night in confession and never have any fun! To hell, their about to get a real education tonight! am I right, come on!” Blake belted as he high fived Lester and picked him up and spun in arrount in a fit of triumphant giddy joy and threw him on the bed after falling on the bed and giving lester a nuggie, and messing up his greasy black chin length hair. As blake looked at his rollex watch on his cufflinged fancy suit sleeve wrapped arrond Lesters Neck, and relized they were going to be Late.
“Crap, we’re late, you wont know anyone there, so I’ll introduce to my lacros friends and professors you know make the rounds, and then you can meet Wally, my only real friend he’s got quite a reputation for party crashing, he’s in my intro-phycology class, in fact, he’s the one who asked me to bring you, ive told him all about you and he says you sound “perfectly divine”, whatever that means, and he’s dying to meet you tonight!”
“Whoa, dude, you serious!? You never told me about all that, wait-is he cute?” Lester inquired as he rose one eye brow promptly.
“I donno...bro your just gonna have to find out” Blake said as he grabbed his small gift bag with a expensive looking bottle of Merlot, and his coat as it was lightly snowing outside, and opened the door and Held it for Lester like the gentleman he was. In the elevator, Lester promptly looked at the refection in the fancy hotel elevator ceeling, he subtly fixed his hair, and breathed on his hand to check his breath, after promptly swallowing a quick mint, you know, just in case.
The two brother’s arrived to the party, the “south campus ball” in a very large mansion, witch could belong to any number of unnamed benefactors, just south of the Printson campus, hence...the name. It was absolutely filled with early 19th century victorian architecture, Blake cleared his thought as he stepped up to the almost midevil door on a quiet street but the faintest flutter of chatter and light jazz in the background flickered through the walls of this fortress. There was no doorbell, so standing presumably above the moat and on drawbrridge of this massive castle, complete with full turrets with a lighting rod poking out of it as well as flying butresses and seemingly timeless stonewalls and ivy running like a stream up the weathered walls almost covered every inch of it, even covering the few dusty closed arched windows. Blake noticed the two massive iron door nockers in the mouths of two promtntly featured lions, as he noticed this was the doornob apertnly subconsciously presmed what he should do next and clamped them hard against the iron scafolded 8 foot high wooden door, just at that moment, a man, who, by chanse happened to professor Hinez, rmebeer him? Blake, blushed as he didnt know that this was professor heinz house, or his party, but considering the professor, he was hardly surprised. He stepped into the house, with an arched roof fit for Notrdame as well as many massive stain glass windows and a massive chandelier barley hanging on in the center of the room. Being one of the only sources of light in the massive dimly lit palace, filled with collage students in letterman jackets dancing with local girls or princeton girls who probably had better things to do tonight, many butts where being grabbed and many pepole where standing arround in penguin suits surrounded by towering dusty bookshelves that extended to the endless ceiling, and gingerly discussing the economy and being overly polite to everyone except everyone else. Mr. Heinz welcomed Blake in, and Lester just behind him, maniting a grimise, the fakest of smiles as he looked arround in horror.
“Mr. Flatt! Welcome I was hoping you’d join us, welcome to my humble home, everyone is having simply the grandest time! so, what lovely lady did you bring with you this fine evening.”
“I coulnt actually bring one to tonight, sir, I was too busy, you know studying, for your class mostly.”
“Ah yes, your recent essay on Pavlov: the art of human conditiong, was truly fascinating and fresh, I could tell you’ve been paying attention in class, my boy...ah! who’s this fine chap, he’s dressed quite...uniquely! eh-” professor heinz said in his grizzly faux easten european accent. almost loosing grip of his cane when he caught sight of Lester, and his typical attire of punk and grunge sloppy dress. The only one not in a suffocating suit, how scandalous!
“Oh sir this is my brother, Lester he’s just returned from travling abroad.”
“Ah studying abroad, seeing the world in your youth can be the grandest and most direct education, where did you travel my boy?”
“Well...we travled back in time, to 1900, to when people still lived in houses like this, where’s the secret toruture dongon? where you keep the k-” Lester said, not giving a shit and not knowing this guy but knowing he was Blake’s professor and blake hated all his professors and wanted him to be himself and disrupt the place so bad, Lester already hated this guy, and got a funny kick of pleasure when he gasped and made grumpy face, and stuck up his nose and stalked away. Blake cut him off and covered his mouth, he apoplgized on his behalf but clearly not meaning a word of it.
“Wow, right off the bat, huh?” Blake said putting his arm arround him.
“Yeah, why wait you know, relax everyone, the life of the party has arrived, you can relax, your welcome.” Lester said to everyone, as he belined to the cocktail table. Everyone making grossed out and appalled looks when they heard and saw lester. Looks of judgment and second hand humiliation, but at the time that was his goal, moreover.
Although all the outrageous fun was grand and all, the fun Lester was having trolling Blakes stuck up collages Prudes and Pompous faccist phonies, Lester coulmnt help but wonder and kind of yurn for an alternate universe where he was actually some impressive highly educated and respected guy whom society wishes to create, especially at insutiutions like this. He fantised in that moment if he lied, if he told them he was actually a business major and was abroad studying local ecomnies in Zambia, and had rich loving parents who were so proud of him, what if all that wasnt a lie, what if somehow, he woulnt be himself for just one night, and another night, and another...what if he really was like his brothers, what if his life was easy and adrimble, if he lied though, it woulnt matter really he’d never see any of them again, but they’d forever think he was “a promising young lad, who would do big things some day” he always thought and wanted to think, just who cares what they think? But everyone in the world seemed to care what they think, so much they were listened to and desired by society by their families, most people cared so deeply about what “they” think, and he coulnt help wonder if someday being himself and telling the truth and disrupting these tiresome all consuming status qoue’s...just woulnt be enough anymore.
But that thought, like most things in Lesters life, came and went, as he poured some fancy liquor, sneakily into his own flask and bottle under the table, that were hidden in his fat pockets, with some stuffy, white mustchaed, white gloved gentleman got a glance and just scoffed muttering something about “who invited the vagrant!” into their bushy mustcahes. Lester took a massive swig and prompt flipped off the high pedestal mustcahe monopoly men. As he found Blake laughing and making dull hetrosexual small talk with his lacrosse friends who were all terribly shallow and sexist, quickly Blake found Lester and grabbed him, as his ticket out of that dreary conversation.
“There you are, you filthy hell raiser!”
“oh dude, you have no idea what I have planned, everyone is already sensing their in the presence of a rock god-on earth, just beyond their mortal compreshnsion! Dude where are you taking me, you sly devil-dog hey you smell like string chease do you need a mintyferesh!?” Lester blurted out, burping and farting consecutivly as he drunkly stumbled and swiged another slog of his stolen cocktail peach schnapps.
“Oh! your so drunk, but thats probaly for the best...all consitering,” Blake said, stating the obvious, he was a man with a plan, guiding lester throug the thin glaring crowd, for he knew where wally the wallflower was wallowing, where he always was, at the back of the room, next to the stairwell, away from the crowds, alone smoking a ciggrete and reading a tiny book of poetry of by camus. Looking back, I think Blake knew exactly what he was doing when he introduced the two of them that night.
Blake truly did know where Wally would be that night, for Evry party Blake begeuningly attended, he saw wally very little and when he did, thats where he was. He only bothered to speak when he was spoken to he often and he was just to witty and smart to be aprected, understood, or listened to at all. or according to rumors anyway, he’s spend his devoid party hours solcating and seducing closted and powerful men, of witch he almost never did but had them living in fear witch he loved, and sometimes took a nice payout when he wanted to buy some new wine, or expensive gold 19th century cigarette cases at uptown auctions, one time he even won a case that was owned by oscar wilde himself.
That perpucalr night wally was in that exact position, sinde they were terribly late by this point Wally had almost accepted that by now, Blake would probably not bring Lester arround, you know seemed to good to be true to wally, he was used to being alone, and he was danm good at it. But then as he sighed preparing to just ditch and drive back to his dorm and probably indulge in rather self destructive secretive habits he would do when he needed to have control over his pain, as he often did on these frequent, bitter, and lonely nights. But all of sudden, beyond his evry expectation, Blake and Lester arrived at his lonely cornner of the party. Blake quickly turned to Lester.
“He’s been dying to meet you, he’s asked me so many times for me to introduce you, you know he’s a genius, like for real, unlike all these fools. Your gonna love him! and yes...objectivly speaking...he is cute.” Blake reasuered
“Great, awesome, hey, how do I look?”
“like a rock god, of corse...”
“No seriously, hows my breath, do I smell like Peaches?” lester breathed on him, nervously, blake just laughed and have him a brotherly patt on the back.
“Shut up, your fine, he’ll love you-heey!” He said as he turned to Wally.
“Hey wally, my man! look who I brought, sorry where late, we walked from the hotel, its cold as a witches tit out there, heh.”
Blake blerted almost out of breath with excitement and anticipation. Wally looked blushed, and vulirble, in a way he seldom was. Wally coulnt quite place it, he didnt fully know, yet in his mind nor body, but Wally NEEDED to meet Lester tonight. He wondered if he was reading to far into the meaning of the camus poem he just read, was about destiny and unexpected love. Wally didnt know what it was about Blake’s descriptions of him, that reminded him off all his repressed fantasies, how much he related to Blake and his struggle, he would never admit just much he related to him, but just by Blake’s beautiful, purposefully heartfelt words about him, Wally related to Lester more, after a life of dispoimnting everyone in the most cliche way and having no shoulder to cry or anyone to tell him otherwise and mean it...untill now, he knew Blake would lead to somnthing special, Blake led him to Lester. a change he wasnt ready for, he even feared and though he didnt deserve and would die without ever expeircing...love or at least whatever the opposite of being alone is. Wally quickly reverted back to his standoffish scowling shell, that he relied on so much.
“Oh so you must be Lester ive heard so much about you, legends truly, I stay up at night often and wonder, can all of them possibly be true?” Wally leaned in and blew his cigarette smoke in Lester's face, Wally's eyes twinkled like the airplanes that Lester wished on like shooting stars, and seemed to look through his leather exterior and see his enlarged heart, for the first time it felt like someone really saw him. Lester was immediately disarmed, and enamored, and knew he had to bring out all the chops, to impress and all the rest, a rock god could still be a gentleman. Lester giggled and thought of a counter pick up line, but then just went for it.
“Heh, you know i'd love to relive like…that whole ass tour, but dude like meeting you is like…so sick.” Lester leaned in and kissed Wally’s extended hand, he let his lips linger and Wally blushed and laughed a bit. Lester cleared his throat feeling the need to answer his original question.
“Yes, but um they're all true, the totally stacked shit I did on tour. But I know my brother went stir crazy without me around, i'm siked he’s kicking it with a real G in this place, just between you and me, um...tough crowd! Like...I cant breath in here, the amount of dust and Rude looks i've gotten since coming in here, like un-real!, how you two brainiacks survive living at this place, I could never! That sounds LA-me!” Lester said starting to nervously sweat.
As Wally looked off the side blowing out more smoke, but Wally was just playing hard to get. Blake sensing an awkward pause came to the rescue, with some high praise.
“Well...Lester you know he lives the good life, he’s not used to being so propper and-” Lester cut Blake off, again.
“Boring!”
“Yes, boring you know as i've told you, he’s just returned from 6 months on the...world tour with the red hot chili peppers, super dope he’s got like a million crazy stories, and trust me...their all true, if you can believe that, ha, you know im so proud of him, and a little jealous you know we worked our whole life to get into this houty tody school, but its really not all its cracked up to be! and he’s really done it all, he’s really lived!” Blake offered, being Lester’s wingman in his sweaty time of need. Lester gave a look like “thanks bro, jesus that was rough!’
“Gosh, that sounds postivivly librataing, I can hardly say ive lived in any sense, although I intend to live forever, you know.” Lester raised his favroite eyebrow, already super confused and just overtaken with big gogo eyes.
“Whatever dealer sold you crack laced with immortality pills, I want his number...” Lester said with a totally straight face.
“ha, that pill is called poetry darling, my life will be tragically and divinely dull and filled with crime and wasted potenial and will end tragicly and soon, but I will publish poetry volumes in witch I will pour the truth of my soul, and through thousands of students and lovers will read my poetry and feel evruything, and through that I will live forever, my words will be faintly mistinterpted, studied, quotes and beloved and then my life wont be a waste, it will be vessel for my proes and poetry, and darling that’s the only way to live forever.” Wally finished, known to monlouge but he spoke better then anyone Lester had ever heard. Lester felt so many conflicting, intense emotions in this moment, with his jaw gaping and truly at a loss for words, all he could say was.
“Wow, i uh...Can I read your poetry, but like...right now. you know so I can see what all the fuss I about.”
“I’d love to, we could hold a salon and write everything on a typewriter or with a quill, I mean it would be positively remarkable if you could read it, no one has ever asked me that before...not even my wilting old poetry professor, professor Saxon, he doesnt understand poetry he only teaches it, in fact he dissmissed Ginsburg, and had the gaul to speak ill off Rambu, he even refused to teach Camus, he lost my respect and my attention in his classes long ago...i do apolgize I tend to ramble, When I speak, for commonly im not the most prolific in the oral trisdshion.”
“Well dude thats like a major bummer, just listening to you just now I think my IQ went up like 40 points, hey you know if im being honest, I didnt tour with the red hot chili peppers, like I did, but im not part of the band of anything, i was rodie but like it was still just insasnly cool and so frickin awesome and I did have a pretty wild summer, and fall and like I will definitely never be the same, one of the many tales, um of outragousniss, was the time Me and Flea were back stage and got really drunk with Billie joel armstrong and we played spin the bong and I had to kiss Flea but it was actually super hot and he like told everyone for the rest of the tour...and all that crazy stuff...” Lester said kind of drifting into a kind of unhinged nostalgia. Wally looked very invested and chuckled in his kind of dreamlike way, like he was never really there but at the same time he was falling in love.
“You know, I could tell you the rest of that story, you know in full its quite the odyssey or epic poem...thing” Lester said, looking to blake for affirmation, Blake just winked and smiled at him but then blake walked away back to the party center, he could tell his work was done. Lester nervously winced, half noticing blake walking away, and thinking he was really turned on and wanted to make the move or you know think of a reason to ditch the party scence without sounding to forward, but he did actually want to read his poetry, he just relized had never read poetry before, does stairway to heaven count as poetry? well to him it did.
“So do tell Marco polo of your all aduentures, im all ears” wally offered.
“You know its just a really long story of many conqests with famous bands and concaine orgies, stage dives and crashing A&R Meetings half naked, really quite detailed, its a long story, I dont know if you wanna hear it all-”
“I love long stories, you know I have all the time of the world, nothing I could be doing otherwise is worth my time...nothing is, expect this definitely is.”
“I could take you to Ivy Inn, the local bar, we could you know, get a drink somtime, I could regale you with all my greatest life accomplishments, you know I am starting my own band, I have a notebook of bandnames that I have a feeling your gonna have alot of strong opinions on, the top 3, are bad manners, the cockblockers, and gross indecency! all for punk bands and hard rock you know...”
“I like the last one, its the finest crime one could commit.”
“yeah, isnt that like when victorian gay bonning was like hella ligal, thats sick dude!”
“May I take you up offer, that inn sounds positivity devine, as long as your providing the means of intoxication?”
“Yeah I have means…” Lester fumbled, totally flushed.
And with that, the lovestory for the ages began. and as you already know, it ends not with a bang but with a lie, as you already know by virtue of this story beginning at its end.
so later that night Lester took Wally to the ivy inn, and got even more drunk but Lesters always either drunk or high so it didnt trully have any barrings on him, and now at a local drive bar, lester could finally relax as he was now comfortable and arround his own kind, mostly ex hells angels and rednecks, but he grew up in new jersey, so he was very much at home. They talked for hours, and got to know eachoher faster, more deeply and more earnestly then anyone had known either of them up until that point. For two people who are starved of connection and have never opened up this rawly and this much before, it was hard for them not to fall in love, the greatest joys of the night, were Lester reading Wally’s poetry and crying at the one called “Black sheep’s sheprard” as he had no clue the depth of Wally’s pain, it was strange after spending this much time with Lester, someone his father would never approve of, someone quite this real bold he had never met in life, had punks and people like lester, all the “Them’s” thoroughly demonized by his family and class since birth, but he could see through it all his indorcnation, his breeding as he hated it, he hated what he represented and would always be defined by, the sickness of money dying at the hands of class and weath and all the filth he’d been rebelling against since brith. Some part of him had always wanted some like Lester, not just to rebel, not just to break out off all the dreadfold molds and conventions he had been shoved and forced into, but becuase a part of him has always wishes he was like him, so free and funny and wild and...sexy, Wally had thought about this a great deal. But it was strage after spending probably the most fullfling night with him now, Wally’s nightly desire to harm himself that night had disappeared, he was so hesstaint to believe that he was real or that this is something that could ever happen to him, he’s only written about love, yearning read about it exsnivly, tried to live vicariously through the few happy margies left in new jersey and all the rom coms he’s never seen, tried to imagine every night what if he was smitten adn it wasnt a lie or a poem. But now, he didnt want to bank of him being worth seeing again and officially making him a part of his life, to drag him into his cold, bleak dull, world and cling to him in the wake of his crippling thoughts and realities. afterall, he had to fight the urge to make everything a kind of artistic tragedy they were just two lonley pepole sitting at a bar behind the snow and the roar of the world raging on despite the people stuck inside it.
they walked Lester back to the hotel he was staying at under his brother’s dime until he found somewhere to live, if ever his brother doubted but had no issue paying his hotel-rent, dispute their parents many issues with it, issues with their ever being happy were constant. However Lester and Wally were drunk enough by this point to stumble on eachother as their ran feverishly through the empty streets of new jersey, delirious and euphoric as they howling at the moon, wrapping Eachother’s scarves arround their heads and faces, slippinhg on ice, almost getting hit by oncoming cars and yelling random prophanties at oncoming honking trucks like:
“You can suck my cotton candy dick you blue coloar bimbo BASTARD!!” Lester yelled and at some point in the frenzy, after having a laughing fit and falling one each other that lasted so very long, they came across the refection of themselves in a barbershop window, in the night reflected by the moon, the stars that you could see in new york and the brief dim glow of flickering streetlights, Wally saw his refection he often pretended was someone else, thin, tall, in a long black woolen coat that went to his knees, linned with big black bottons, his many scars hidden undeneath his perfectly ironed and starched dress shirt and gold cufflinks, he saw his classic white scarf, white vest and fedora combo that he was known for a wore every day, but this time, for the first time he saw someone who was happy.
Lester looked at his reflection, really took a minute to ponder it, to process it as almost never did, he never wanted to look at himself, he always tried to distance himself from himself as possible, he saw an ugly, loser who looked the part. he was a fat, he wearing the same ill fitting black red hot chilli peppers sweater, with hardly brushed, now matted black greasy chin length hair, 12. o'clock shadow some scratchy peach fuzz, boozed greasy lips fingerless gloves and his big leather jacket that went past his waist, covered in punk pins, patches and even some spikes, as well as his loose, hanging down cargo pants with many pockets and a studded belt and some loose dirty 12 year old converse that were untied with frayed laises, but for the first time he really saw a rock god, a super dope badass who doesn't care what anyone thinks, and will enjoy life and be so freaking happy despite the world betting on him being always crushed. He was in love and worthy of it, he was himself in new jersey, in his skin, in his cage, in his life and anywhere else. they both looked at themselves, their real selves revealed and laid plain, feeling the strange new feeling known as joy, so forgein yet for the first time embarrassed. they looked at their reflection and then back at eachother, as one last cloud passed to reval the whole, full moon as bright as ever shinning down on them, like the rock gods and angels had blessed them offically, David bowie, the starman looked down and smiled at his children boggieing, and in that seemingly perfect moment, the snow stoped, and Wally leaned in and kissed Lester, Wally pulled him close, their body heat making both of them less cold, Wally’s soft, thin and naked lips caressed and quitely explored lester’s mouth, as he moved his tongue in, they made out for as long as one could without coming up for air, Lester leaned back and looked up to Wally's watery eyes and weak smile, as wally as slightly taller then Lester, Wally stroked lester's cheek and pushed him balck straight stringy hair out of his face behind his ears, as Wally lightly grabbed Lester’s stumpty stumbled cute little chin and just smiled at him, as he held back tears, his eyes all glossy with his eyes reflecting his face perfectly in the moonlight. Lester decided to break the romantic science.
“Wow, that...was so rock n roll!” Lester said as they both laughed
“I wish this moment could last a thousand eiternies”
“omg dude! I should totally write a song about this, i'll call it-”
“Just, shut up-” wally said before kissing him again.
After they made out again in the middle of the street, cursed out at by a homphobic trucker and onlookers, but for the first time they don't care they just flipped them off.
Now they both lie in a pile of snow on the side of the road, their arms around each other, Lester lays buried in wally’s scarf on his chest, as Wally strokes his hair and kisses his forehead as they watch the full moon and the sky full of stars, suddenly an airplane flies by and Lester soulfully gasped.
“Look! it's a shooting star!”
“Um, Lester that’s an airpl-
“Shhhhhhhhhh, make a wish.”
Wally quietly chuckled, and he did make a wish. That when he woke up this all would be a dream, and that the universe would really let him be with Lester.
Lester closed his eyes and made a wish, that Blake would help him write his song about this night, he’d call it “Sexy Scarf!” AND THAT BLAKE WOULD BE IMPRESSED BE IN HIS NEW BAND GROSS INDERCY AND THAT HE WOULD BE ABLE TO SOMEHOW KEEP UP BEING THIS COOL TOMORROW! And that he could remember this night forever even though he was drunk out of his mind and that-
Wow Lester, dream on, buddy…um, you do know that isnt a shooting star right?
Chapter three: Killer Queens: the Art of Fucking up and Fucking down: the Drop outs bible.
For the first time for Lester things were really starting to look up. I mean his life didnt really change much or get better, he was still broke, homeless living out of a hotel, his brother getting to busy for him with princeton by the day, starting to crack and conform to the pressure of printson life, and Lester officially a full blown acolhoic, trying despretry to recacpture and annoyingly about his rohdie days every chance he got, but...not of that matters because now he has Wally! After that formative romantic night they jumped head first into the honeymoon phase, but by all accounts, they were already planning their honeymoon. Month’s flew by, Winter at printson was a real bear, but everything seems to just fade away and all become ok, after all Lester’s glasses (the one’s he claimed Flea got from Elton John) were definitely rose tinted, our boy was in love. He was anything but shy about it, in fact they had been dating for almost 3 months and they still managed to hide their blossoming romance with their parents, who they knew would just not approve at all and probably try to break them up and turn the whole thing into a whole ass class war and likely end in some avoidable mornic tragedy in the fashion of romeo and juliet, a novel Wally had of course read and despised. Obviously Blake reveled and Relished in every cute, wacky aspect of their budging relationship, with many a elbow jab and a class slew of poorly timed new jersey sex jokes, blake also took full credit for their relationship as he was in the fact the one who first got them together at the south campus ball back in October, 1995, witch seemed forever ago now.
Now, Blake meets Wally on his way to see Lester's first big performance with his new band, Gross Indecency in new york city at the Apollo Theater a huge gig, especially considering the…type of music they played, everyone agreed up until now the band had only did roadside gigs, and sung about classic topics like how much princeton sucks and men being gross and music about whatever the heck was on Lester’s mind at the time. How they got the gig, opening for some popular upstart soul trio hopefully they’d be as tempting that the temptations, but Lester and his band were freaking out, and by that I mean they had been rehearsing since 9:00am. Now gross indcency’s gimmick was that Lester could not sing at all, but his lack of any vocal tallent lead of the most raw rock n roll rasp, they discovered this the hard way, by just having Lester yell into his mic and improvise over it. The Og. members of gross indecey at this time, included:
Judy Orion on base (or Just Orion; her stage name) a patti smith, who used to play with Cirk cobain and was big in the grung scene but since she got slammed by the tabloids for sleeping with marlon manson (I mean who hasent!) a few years back, and was looking to clean up her image and get in with a new band who needed her tallents, her base apeartly used to belong to Blink 182, though she probably just said to give her six string some legend. She was more or less the leader of the group, Lester was never the bands leader just it’s founder and gimmick voice tallent, he knew Gross’ indeceny was’nt just his star vehicle alone.
There was Morris Leaky or “Mop”, the lead guatairst and back up vocals, his large vibrato range sining more the belty guns and rosses style witch countered perfeckly with Lester’s loud, almost mental growls that definetly sounded less like revalution and more like an exorisim. Mop was old, he had crazy stories from being a teenager in the 60’s, the summer of love, he even went to woodstock, the legendary status imanbated off of him, but after a few failed stints with Ram Jam and Wolfmother but ulmitly coulnt handle his true psychedelic tallents as he could play the cetair better then paul macartnty ever thought he could, and was known to experiment with african tribal indtsurments, and creating truly universal phydelicly groovy sounds that were truly ahead of its time, he basically was the old hippie grandpa father figure the band needed, and even used his own out of rocket retirement fund to pay for their first album, witch they had only just finished recording and was sopporsed to debeut after tonight and be preomted by their premiere performance.
Then there was Rudski on drums, an out of work landlord who used to be on Stomp, and had even offered Lester a free place to stay and rehese as they were running up the tab at the new jersey bar’s they used tp play at and were kicked out of their recording studio out of Mop’s mother’s garage, Ruski offered him a…free place to stay in harlem and a new recording studio space an offer Lester considered considering the crossroads his life was begging to form, but Rudski left it on the table and gave him some time to think about it. Remember Rudski he will be important later.
Tonight at the apollo opening for…what was the soul blues headliner was called again? right! Hips in Motion, at first he thought they were an aretha franklin cover band but either way they were a big deal, and in 1996 opening for them was an even bigger deal then they had originally thought. Now they had been working for this day for the past year playing truck stops and honky tonk bars on the weekly rotation, that grind was rough, they were still picking glass out of their hair. They had had mild sucess on the circut, but even though the test aducinces ate it up, who were mostly drunks at new jersey truck stops, their opinions were not so…telling, the big city lights of the Apollo would make or break them now, so no pressure! so this was the big league, they heard that the house would be packed tonight, and lester knew he would have to kick ultimate ass, because Blake and Wally would be in the audience, but hopefully not the mosh pit. But they only had 3 hours left till the performance, so Lester’s rehearsal raged on.
Lester had actually gotten better at sining, he still “couldn't really sing” but he had seriously honed his technique in this time and nailed the kind of iggy pop, higher octave almost screemo, belty voice but that sounded very sexy, and was most in the vein of Bon Scott and seriously sounded like Bon Scott’s kind of rock voice and attitude by the this point, and under Mop’s mentorship and being an industry veteran he helped Lester create and epic stage show, and presene as well as Having him and judy compose and play the most epic base riff’s for the show, they were all dressed in faux military esthitic, with Lester in a punk, althered sargents pin stripped uniform with the perfect modifaction to make the mic stand look like a riffle and have gun shots loaded into the back up and to play at select times during the show. For their set, as just an opening act they were only playing two songs. Two new ones lester had written in preparation, the first one they were rehhersing now and had been the most to really get it down, was a song against the war on drugs, and against war in genral, called Catching 22’s. The song basically mocked and objectified the milatry, saying that the real war is at home and making a real revaluniatry point about the war on drugs and how the milatry seems really sexy and powerful untill you sign up and they brainwash you into murdering children, and how nothing’s changed since vietnam and the government wants to draft poor youth to fight their inetrnatonal pissing contests and discard them like trash when they return ridden with PTSD, the song even had a chant portio baked in and was ment to really rille up the adionce like at a riot or protest but framed as a call and response training song. But the pressure was really on because rumor had it Public Enemy and Spike lee were in the audience tonight.
Their rehesering now became more and more high energy and even stressful as the hours ticked down and the sun set before the big show.
“Alright! Let's take it from the top!” Judy barked after they played their set for the 8th time in a row.
“Come on Judy,Judas, my queen-can we please take a break we’ve rehearsed for what…two million years now, You know let's take a smoke break, clear our heads before the show, you know loosen our gooses, get into the right, mental mindspace…”
“Um, no Lester we have to get the right, we need to get this song down your still holding back and Rudeski please you don't need to throw the drunkstrick in the air, every-single-time, you didn't even catch it on beat the last 2 times.”
“But I think, now shoot me if I'm wrong here, but I think we should…save some of our KABOOM, you know not use up all your rock god energy all now, like save some of the umph! For the real thing…” Judy faced palmed and mauled in frustration. Looking like Joan Jett on a warpath, in her camouflage tight revealing rock n roll headband and low cut crop top and a few dangling dog tags.
“No! We are still rusty, Lester this is what being in a band is, you stay on the grind you practice our song, over, and over, and over until we get it right, and then we record our album and if we get lucky get signed, pratcie all week
