Suicide Notes Of a New York Love Affair
Changes.
Sonny woke up the next morning with a splitting headache. The person upstairs had played his music until about 2:00 in the morning. He turned over sleepily and looked at the clock. ‘11:00am’ it read.
“Shit!” Sonny shouted. He had slept through his alarm. He jumped out of bed and quickly threw on his clothes. He looked in his diary and sighed with relief. Today was his day to work at home. He tidied his room and picked up a garbage bag to put outside. He collided with his neighbour as he went outside.
“Oh. Hi,” The boy said darkly.
“Hello. Erm… I’d like to apologise for my behaviour last night, it’s just that I’ve just moved here.”
“It’s ok, my friends and I were just having a party. I’m sorry for playing the music so loud.” He said, but this time with a trace of apology in his voice. A slight Trace. The two boys smiled nervously at each other for a few seconds before Sonny broke the awkward silence.
“By the way, what is your name?”
“Mikey, Mikey Way. What’s yours?”
“Sonny Moore. I better get back into my flat, I’ve got a lot of work to do today.”
“Oh. Ok. Bye.” Mikey smiled briefly. Sonny felt angry at himself for judging Mikey before he met him. Surely he was a nice guy. Sonny sat in front of his laptop and stared at the screen which was now filled with equations and prices. For the first time in his life, he wondered if this was really what he wanted to do for his life. Doing 72 hours a week staring at a computer screen for at least 30 years of his life. He shook the thought away and began to write even more sums into the computer, hoping that the extensive maths would drive all his thoughts away.
“Fuck this, I’m going out for a drink,” Sonny said under his breath. He grabbed his coat and stormed down the steps to outside. It seemed as though history was repeating itself again as he slammed into Mikey in his rage.
“Whoa! Calm down mate. What’s the matter?” Mikey said.
“My works getting me down.”
“No offence, but you seem to be a workaholic. I’ll buy you a drink if you want.” Mikey offered.
“That’s awfully kind of you. Thanks.” Sonny smiled.
Sonny went back inside his house to get his coat before coming outside again. Sonny’s idea of a ‘drink’ was going to a fancy bar to have a glass of wine with a chat over business deals or the news. Mikey, however, took him to a local scruffy bar, the entrance being in a secluded alleyway. All the people in the bar looked like clones of Mikey, each wearing the same drainpipes and talking in the same way as he did.
“Hey Tommy,” Mikey called over the bar, “The usual.”
“Coming right up!” a voice came from the kitchen said.
“Anything you’d like?” Mikey asked Sonny. Sonny would have liked to say he’d like a glass of pinot-grigio, thank you very much, but didn’t want to come across as a bit posh.
“Erm... just a glass of wine,” Sonny said finally. As soon as their drinks were served they sat down at one of the tables.
“So... Got a girlfriend?” Mikey
“Erm... Not at the moment, no,” Sonny said, failing to mention that he never had one. “What about you?”
“Nah just broke up with her. Shame. She’s the one that cheated on me though,” Mikey answered.
“I’m sorry,”
“There’s plenty more fish in the sea, eh?” Mikey grinned. Sonny wished he could have been more like Mikey rather than what he was now. Sonny looked Mikey up and down, taking in the drainpipes and stripy jumper one more time.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Mikey said.
“Oh err... Nothing,” Sonny said with a nervous laugh.
“Well, I was just wondering if you could help me with something...” Mikey said.
“Sure. Anything.”
“Well, I’m 19 and I’m starting to get the feeling that I have to get a job. I was wondering if you had any contacts I could use to get a full-time job.”
“Only if you help me with something,” Sonny said.
“Of course.”
“Well, I have never been the coolest person. I was wondering if you could help me get some style,” Sonny said, blushing slightly. Mikey’s eyes lit up. He stood up.
“What’s wrong?” Sonny asked.
“Come with me,” Mikey said, grabbing Sonny’s arm. He dragged Sonny out of the bar, down the alleyway and into a shop called ‘Retro’. While he was there, Mikey seemed to have gone into fast-forward. He zipped around the shop, brandishing different pairs of jeans and tee shirts with the names of bands Sonny had never heard of. Mikey finally settled on a pair of black drainpipes, a ‘Green Day’ tee shirt and a pair of black and white chequered Vans shoes. He pushed Sonny into the changing room so he could get ready. Sonny stepped out of the changing room feeling embarrassed and humiliated. Mikey felt different.
“You look amazing,” He gasped.
“The jeans feel a bit tight...” Sonny said foolishly.
“They’re meant to be,” Mikey said, rolling his eyes. They bought the clothes along with a ‘Clash’ hoodie. Mikey next dragged Sonny to a hair-dresser. This was no hair-dresser Sonny had ever seen. The people inside had either black hair or some outlandishly dyed hair. Sonny had light blond, quite long hair. Mikey pushed him into a seat and beckoned a hair-dresser over. After an hour of rigorous brushing, cutting and styling, his hair was ready. The person had cut him a half fringe and dyed his hair black as well as shortening it slightly. There was so much hair-spray in it that Sonny coughed whenever his hair got into his face. Mikey then took Sonny to a tattooist.
“I think this is getting a bit far, Mikey...” Sonny said.
“You’re not having a tattoo, you’re getting a piercing,” Said Mikey, and pushed Sonny into the shop before he could protest. Sonny had both sides of his lip pierced (or ‘snake bites’ as it was called) and Mikey bought him some make-up. Mikey put some pink eye shadow on him with thick black eye liner. Sonny looked so different from how he used to. He scared old ladies on the street and got bottles thrown at him. He was defiantly a different person!
“Shit!” Sonny shouted. He had slept through his alarm. He jumped out of bed and quickly threw on his clothes. He looked in his diary and sighed with relief. Today was his day to work at home. He tidied his room and picked up a garbage bag to put outside. He collided with his neighbour as he went outside.
“Oh. Hi,” The boy said darkly.
“Hello. Erm… I’d like to apologise for my behaviour last night, it’s just that I’ve just moved here.”
“It’s ok, my friends and I were just having a party. I’m sorry for playing the music so loud.” He said, but this time with a trace of apology in his voice. A slight Trace. The two boys smiled nervously at each other for a few seconds before Sonny broke the awkward silence.
“By the way, what is your name?”
“Mikey, Mikey Way. What’s yours?”
“Sonny Moore. I better get back into my flat, I’ve got a lot of work to do today.”
“Oh. Ok. Bye.” Mikey smiled briefly. Sonny felt angry at himself for judging Mikey before he met him. Surely he was a nice guy. Sonny sat in front of his laptop and stared at the screen which was now filled with equations and prices. For the first time in his life, he wondered if this was really what he wanted to do for his life. Doing 72 hours a week staring at a computer screen for at least 30 years of his life. He shook the thought away and began to write even more sums into the computer, hoping that the extensive maths would drive all his thoughts away.
“Fuck this, I’m going out for a drink,” Sonny said under his breath. He grabbed his coat and stormed down the steps to outside. It seemed as though history was repeating itself again as he slammed into Mikey in his rage.
“Whoa! Calm down mate. What’s the matter?” Mikey said.
“My works getting me down.”
“No offence, but you seem to be a workaholic. I’ll buy you a drink if you want.” Mikey offered.
“That’s awfully kind of you. Thanks.” Sonny smiled.
Sonny went back inside his house to get his coat before coming outside again. Sonny’s idea of a ‘drink’ was going to a fancy bar to have a glass of wine with a chat over business deals or the news. Mikey, however, took him to a local scruffy bar, the entrance being in a secluded alleyway. All the people in the bar looked like clones of Mikey, each wearing the same drainpipes and talking in the same way as he did.
“Hey Tommy,” Mikey called over the bar, “The usual.”
“Coming right up!” a voice came from the kitchen said.
“Anything you’d like?” Mikey asked Sonny. Sonny would have liked to say he’d like a glass of pinot-grigio, thank you very much, but didn’t want to come across as a bit posh.
“Erm... just a glass of wine,” Sonny said finally. As soon as their drinks were served they sat down at one of the tables.
“So... Got a girlfriend?” Mikey
“Erm... Not at the moment, no,” Sonny said, failing to mention that he never had one. “What about you?”
“Nah just broke up with her. Shame. She’s the one that cheated on me though,” Mikey answered.
“I’m sorry,”
“There’s plenty more fish in the sea, eh?” Mikey grinned. Sonny wished he could have been more like Mikey rather than what he was now. Sonny looked Mikey up and down, taking in the drainpipes and stripy jumper one more time.
“Why are you looking at me like that?” Mikey said.
“Oh err... Nothing,” Sonny said with a nervous laugh.
“Well, I was just wondering if you could help me with something...” Mikey said.
“Sure. Anything.”
“Well, I’m 19 and I’m starting to get the feeling that I have to get a job. I was wondering if you had any contacts I could use to get a full-time job.”
“Only if you help me with something,” Sonny said.
“Of course.”
“Well, I have never been the coolest person. I was wondering if you could help me get some style,” Sonny said, blushing slightly. Mikey’s eyes lit up. He stood up.
“What’s wrong?” Sonny asked.
“Come with me,” Mikey said, grabbing Sonny’s arm. He dragged Sonny out of the bar, down the alleyway and into a shop called ‘Retro’. While he was there, Mikey seemed to have gone into fast-forward. He zipped around the shop, brandishing different pairs of jeans and tee shirts with the names of bands Sonny had never heard of. Mikey finally settled on a pair of black drainpipes, a ‘Green Day’ tee shirt and a pair of black and white chequered Vans shoes. He pushed Sonny into the changing room so he could get ready. Sonny stepped out of the changing room feeling embarrassed and humiliated. Mikey felt different.
“You look amazing,” He gasped.
“The jeans feel a bit tight...” Sonny said foolishly.
“They’re meant to be,” Mikey said, rolling his eyes. They bought the clothes along with a ‘Clash’ hoodie. Mikey next dragged Sonny to a hair-dresser. This was no hair-dresser Sonny had ever seen. The people inside had either black hair or some outlandishly dyed hair. Sonny had light blond, quite long hair. Mikey pushed him into a seat and beckoned a hair-dresser over. After an hour of rigorous brushing, cutting and styling, his hair was ready. The person had cut him a half fringe and dyed his hair black as well as shortening it slightly. There was so much hair-spray in it that Sonny coughed whenever his hair got into his face. Mikey then took Sonny to a tattooist.
“I think this is getting a bit far, Mikey...” Sonny said.
“You’re not having a tattoo, you’re getting a piercing,” Said Mikey, and pushed Sonny into the shop before he could protest. Sonny had both sides of his lip pierced (or ‘snake bites’ as it was called) and Mikey bought him some make-up. Mikey put some pink eye shadow on him with thick black eye liner. Sonny looked so different from how he used to. He scared old ladies on the street and got bottles thrown at him. He was defiantly a different person!