12 August, 1987, Wednesday

I totally crashed last night. It was like, immediate. I did have a really weird dream, though. I was in a blank white space, and my body didn’t cast any shadows. The space looked vast, but I also swear I saw the corners of a room, so it was more like a huge, white room with no doors I was in. I think something happened, but if it did, I don’t remember it. Anyway…

I always try to be quieter in the mornings so I don’t risk waking Rhea up, even though I know she’s a heavy sleeper. I guess it’s the thought that counts, but I can’t help but exclaim after cracking an egg with two yolks!

“Whoooah, what!?” I can’t help it, I’ve gotta go tell Rhea. I’ve never even heard of that happening before- is it safe to eat still? Or am I gonna get some kind of disease from the freakish double zygote? I knock on her door, but again, she’s a heavy sleeper, so no response. I try knocking again, but louder. “Rhea! I got twins! Look before I scramble them!” Huh. She’s not that heavy of a sleeper. I’d never do this with anyone else, but we’ve shared a room for years before, and this is just too crazy to miss. I open the door. “Dude, Rhea, I-”

Her bed is… empty. Is she screwing with me? I spent a few minutes looking all over our admittedly small house. I’ve already been in the bathroom and there was nothing. I looked through my room to see if she snuck in, but there are no hiding spots anyway. Our living room is pretty hard to hide in, and so now I’m just… standing here. I’m starting to feel really, really off. Something’s not right. Where else could she possibly be? I look on the table for a note- nothing. She never goes out without a note. She can’t possibly still be in the studio; she was just working with one band. One session wouldn't have taken all night. I have to try.

I dash to the phone and look at the taped piece of paper on the wall for Dual Shriek’s number. I dialled so fast I almost fucked up the first time, but the phone is ringing now. I swear each beep is longer than the last, the silence between dial tones stretching and lingering far beyond what’s okay with me. Shit. No one answers. I can only think of a couple of places she could be, and I have to go. Now.

She loves that one thrift store downtown on her days off; I should try that. Hidden Trove? I think that’s what it’s called. I dunno exactly where it is, but I’m sure a directory will help a bunch. There aren’t too many people on the bus right now, but… A familiar rhythm is in my ears. I’ve heard it somewhere… Right! The girl on the bus last night was listening to some music. It… seems like the same song, but it’s hard to tell with just percussion. I look around, trying not to look too creepy, but no one seems to be listening to anything. No headphones in sight. The rhythm is getting a little weird. It’s like multiple tracks of it are playing at once, but it’s a mess now, because none of them are in sync. Actually, some sound faster or slower than others. What the fuck is going on? Does anyone else hear this? It doesn’t look like it’s bothering anyone. Am I just being sensitive? What the hell’s happening? Actually, now that I’m focused on it, I swear it’s coming closer. All of them are coming closer. I don’t know where it’s coming from. Nothing’s coming closer, but I hear it. I do. I do hear it. Where is it coming from? I don’t know. Am I sick? What’s going on? What is that? I’m beyond uncomfortable right now. I can feel my skin prickling as what I’m guessing is my hair standing up on my arms. It’s itchy. I have to get off this bus.

I’m already standing as the driver stops at the next zone, shuffling off quickly. Fuck. Not only is the street busy, but the sound is… It’s hardly just a sound anymore. It’s everywhere. I plug my ears to drown it out for just a moment, but nothing changes. What the fuck. What the fuck!? I can’t even think right now. Are they my thoughts? The beating?  Everyone’s eyes are telling me that they’re wondering what the hell is wrong with me. Fuck off, don’t pretend it isn’t bothering you! You think you’re so much better- prick! I wanna fucking sock everyone’s stupid fucking expression- don’t fucking look at me. I’m not even sure if it’s my ears I’m listening to this through; it feels more like it’s happening inside. Inside where? I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong. Someone needs to tell me what’s wrong right now or I’m gonna freak the fuck out. Someone has to look. It’s a heavy sound, but it’s so fast. Heavy and fast and it fades in and out, panning left to right to even further right before it appears right on my left. Right? My left? It’s in front of me and behind me all at the same time; it won’t leave, it won’t stop, and it has no color to it, but it does. It’s every color which makes no color, and it keeps morphing and stretching and distorting, and it’s disgusting and too much and I’m sick. Everything looks so far away, but I can’t extend my arm much before I touch it. What am I touching? Light, that’s the pole where light comes from. I feel like an elevator just stopped and I haven’t finished falling down. The pressure. I can feel it in the sound. I can’t hear anything else. Not the cars whizzing by, not the people walking up and down, not even my own hard breaths. Not my own scream, but everyone else can. I can’t hear you, so stop talking. The thudding is joined by whirling and whooshing. I can’t escape it. I can’t. I have to try, but I can’t. I have to try.

I don’t know where I am, but I’ve fallen through a door. It’s… it’s gone. The sound. Or at least, it’s really muffled now. All of it. My head and my chest hurt so fucking bad, and I feel like I’ve held my breath for minutes… Ugh, ew, I’m so sweaty too… I stand back up; I don’t wanna freak anyone out being all hunched over like that. I take a look around, realizing I’ve somehow made it to Hidden Trove. Talk about dumb luck. Now that I’m upright, I can actually still hear just one ‘track’ of the beat, but instead of being this horrible, oppressive drone, it’s, well, kind of relaxing. It’s coming from my left, but before I fully turn my head, the beating is interrupted by the sound of gold that used to shimmer.

“Hey…”

I turn my head. I can’t make it out right away, but it looks like… Whoah. It’s Isabelle Salvas! She looks super tired. Can’t blame her; it’s early.

“You okay?” she asks. She works here? Thinking about it too hard makes my head hurt even worse. I’ve only spoken to her once after a show of hers. I told her she played a great set as she was leaving, and even though she was in a rush, she turned her body to face me while she was walking away going, ‘Oh my gosh, thank you so much for coming, you’re so sweet!’ I don’t think she even finished what she was saying before she disappeared out the door. She seemed really cool, but then, her voice was vivid and bright. I can’t blame her, but right now it sounds like several days of grief were lingering in it, or rather, the grief was maybe given voice.

Isabelle looks out the glass door. “Is someone… following you or something? Do you need to hide?” Even though she sounds exhausted, she’s asking some pretty fair questions. Shit, how embarrassing is it that I freaked out so badly over nothing? What even was that? I still hear it a little, but again, it’s way less intense now. I really need to ignore it right now.

“Uhh, no, I was just… I’m looking for someone, that’s all.” I turn to actually face her. “Have you seen a girl, early 20’s, brown wavy hair, brown eyes, Filipino? Couple of inches taller than me? Her name’s Rhea.” Isabelle is thinking the whole time I’m talking, but after all, she scrunches her mouth to one side of her face and slowly shakes her head. Shit, I kind of knew I wouldn’t get an answer that would help, but still…

“I’m really sorry, hardly anyone’s come in at all so far, and none of them look like her, I know for sure.”

I sigh.

“I know, I’m sorry…”

“No, no, no, not your fault,” I try to reassure her. I feel bad for sighing now- I don’t want her to think that it was aimed at her. I just don’t know where to look next, and if the sound is still out there, I don’t know if I have the strength to go out again right now. I’m in the middle of thinking when I hear Isabelle speak up again.

“Hey, have I… seen you before?”

I really should get going, but I really don’t think going out so soon will be helpful. Besides- it’s her. “Uhh, yeah, sort of.” I place a hand on the back of my neck. I’m only slightly nervous and having somewhat conflicting feelings. On one hand, how cool; it’s the face of Flowers for Ophelia. Two, what’s she doing here? I’ve never seen her work here before. Three, the rumors… which I know are stupid, but the thing going on isn’t exactly sensical either. “I’ve been to some of your shows-”

“Oh my gosh!”

I jump a little. She’s so suddenly full of life for a moment! “I do remember you!” she continues. “I couldn’t forget hair like that so easily.”

I can feel a bit of pride gathering in my chest. I have to admit, it does feel pretty good to hear that from her.

“Uhh, wow, thanks,” I respond while scratching the back of my head. I feel dumb for thinking about going natural now. Maybe I’ll stick with the green after all.

“Totally. I’ve seen lots of yellow and red but you really hardly ever see any green. I think that’s really cool.”

I turn my head away and laugh a little. “Thanks…” I say again, not knowing what else to say. I can feel my awkwardness creeping up.

“What’s your name?”

“Ever.”

“Ever?” She tilts her head. “As in, ‘happily ever after?’” They really think this girl is out here throwing curses on people? I can’t help but laugh again at her stupid joke, and she joins. Her laugh sparkles.

“Yeah, yeah, I guess!”

I almost forget that I’m sort of in the middle of a crisis until someone else walks in, interrupting our laughter. I have no idea what it is, but I’m a little on edge now. It might be his fault. You know when you’re having an okay time and then someone comes in and kind of makes you feel like you have to, like, put your guard up? That. Another thudding noise follows him in, but again, I don’t see anything anywhere. It’s weird and a little more muffled somehow than all the other sounds. I think he glances at me for a second, I’m not sure, but he strides up to Isabelle, and she seems to know him, but she does get just a touch quiet once he’s around.

“Hey,” she says with a little wave.

“Crazy seein’ you here,” he responds. I hear… grey— no, red. Like a dusky wine spilled over gravel. He’s got a weird accent too; it almost sounds like Simon’s but it’s… different somehow? Maybe they’re from different parts of the country. My immediate thought was that maybe they’d know each other, but some part of me really doubts that. Isabelle quietly laughs at his sardonic remark.

“Yeah, insane,” she responds. I’m guessing they arranged seeing each other here beforehand. “Where’d you park?”

“Next to you, I think.”

Isabelle gives him an incredulous look, paired with a smile. “You can't park there!”

“Oh, no,” he feigns panic in the flattest tone possible. “I don’t think they’re checkin’ right now, sweet thing.”

No way, dude, they’re a thing? Or maybe he’s just like that… No, it’s gotta be the latter. Gross. He’s gross, I’ve decided it.

“Sheesh…” Isabelle shakes her head, then glances over at me. “Oh, uh, this is Ever.” What!? No, I was just going to leave, I really wasn’t expecting her to introduce me or anything.

“Who?” The one eye I can see from this side darts toward me, but he doesn’t bother turning his head. I really don’t like this guy. Sometimes it only takes a second of being in the same room as someone to kind of get what they’re all about, but I think I’ve got my reasons. There’s something about the way the corners of his lips stay up no matter what paired with his unfittingly tired eyes. Anyway, he gives me a once over from the sides of his eyes, and now I’m really unsettled. “...Charmed.”

Yeah, whatever, fuck you.

He looks back at Isabelle, whose eyebrows are a little furrowed despite her slight smile. I can tell she wants to say something, but she doesn’t. It’s fine, I don’t need an intro to this douche anyway, and I really have shit to do. They’re talking and I’m on my way out when I’m stopped by yet another visitor; looks like this place’s traffic is picking up after all.

“Uh, sorry…” I say as I try to move past the new visitor, but she won’t move. I look at her eyes, and… not good. They’re foggy and this girl has absolutely no color in her face. She really isn’t moving. I immediately think back to the person I bumped into at Echo Park. I back up to give her some space, and it’s now that I hear Isabelle and that other guy’s conversation slow down. The sick one does start moving from the door into the store. I should go now, but I always get morbidly curious about the sick ones. I know it shouldn’t be a spectacle- they’re unwell, but sometimes the things they do make for interesting stories. I am starting to get a little nervous though, because the sick one starts slowly shifting her way to Isabelle and her friend. Isabelle looks nervous, but she still maintains a friendly smile.

“Hey, how can I help?” she asks to no response, unsurprisingly.

“You awake?” her ‘friend’ chimes in. Nothing. The sick one keeps walking toward them, and Isabelle’s friend stops leaning on the counter and straightens himself out. He smiles even as his eyes narrow at the stranger. “You’re gettin’ awfully close, mate.” A warning. His voice sounds less like a wine and more like— oh, shit.

The stranger suddenly screams and reaches out toward Isabelle, who shrieks in terror and jumps backward. I feel prickling all over my skin. I’ve never felt anything like it, but before I have time to process what’s going on, Isabelle’s friend socks the stranger in the face… hard. Like, hard. I’m wondering if it was unnecessarily so. A loud, cracking sound sits on top of all the other noise. A freakishly large splatter of dark red hits the back wall somehow. I gasp and Isabelle throws her hands over her mouth in shock. The sick one falls instantly. I haven’t seen that many fights, but I really don’t think it’s normal for someone’s neck to be twisted in any way after someone punches them a single time, nor should they bleed out of their face that much. I get that she was coming after Isabelle, but something about what just happened feels really bad.

“Joseph!” Isabelle shouts.

“What?” Despite his disturbingly nonchalant look, her friend, apparently Joseph, sounds annoyed. “You seen her? She wasn’t even alive. Makes no difference what I do to her!”