Ten Worlds Apart
one of one
"She wore the biggest pearls and had this brume that kind of, surrounded her." He wants to smoke or go home and have sex with his wife, but he knows that this interview will give him some type of consolation in talking about her.
"Edie Sedgwick was, a superstar. No doubt in my mind about that," Billy laughs. His smile is fluctuant and there are so many cameras around that he doesn't know which one to look in to. Too many people are directing him and yelling and someone in the corner has a polaroid camera and keeps snapping pictures of him when he least expects it. The patchwork scarf around his neck is gagging him; the interview is so tiring that he wants to use it as a noose and hang himself from the bolsters above. "She sure was a beauty. Did you know that she used to be a brunette? My buddy Sid told me." He chuckles once more and shakes his head. "Why would I even ask that? Everyone could see it in her roots."
Billy twists his wedding band nervously and halts the interviewer for a few seconds while he rifles through his satchel. He quickly pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and hands it to the man, it's a drawing of an albatross sketched in pencil. "Who drew this?"
"Who else?" Billy asks. "She gave this to me when I first met her. Edie was so talented, but she told me that she'd rather be an actress, I was a little disappointed to be honest." The lights are on his face and they are so lucent that he has to put his sunglasses on. The picture is being passed around and even the photostat man in the corner gets a look at it, everyone is amazed and their smiles are brighter then the lights and tinsel shining in his face. "I believe that she was an exceptional woman, when she walked into the room, people were almost absorbed into her energy.
"Woman after her were ten worlds apart from her mannerism, they tried and they tried so hard to be like her." He stops to light a cigarette and inhales and the butane runs through the seams embedded in his skin. "And the crazy thing about it is, she was still a role model to so many people, even after the fall-out with drugs and addiction." He shakes his head. "And I will always love her."
"What about Andy Warhol? What do you think about him?"
He grunts and the butt of his cigarette falls onto the earthenware, his irritation is prominent. "Andy Warhol? I told Edie that he would be the death of her, but she didn't want to listen." Billy scratches the chest hairs peeking out of his shirt. "Can I call him a dick? Is it alright to say 'dick' during an interview?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Well, I already did so I guess it's alright." His expression is smug and the kodachrome man watches with wide eyes and interviewer is taken aback.
"You sure are blunt, Mr. Quinn."
"Blunt? You think I'm blunt? Hell, man, I'm just honest."
Everyone but Billy laughs because Andy Warhol is not a gelastic subject, he is an off-color, lewd man who takes advantage of young girls looking for fame and notoriety. The thought of his white hair and white face and underground movies made Billy sick to his stomach; he still remembers the day Edie chose to stay and from then on she was nothing but a broken marionette. The drugs and the needles and the bruises, it was just too painful to think about.
"Sid was Edie's friend from Cambridge, and he loved her and cared for her so much. He knew how to make her happy." He breaks into a fit of laughter. "But I had my own ways of making the girl happy, I will not agree nor deny whatever accusations you have to throw at me. I mean, come on, guys." Billy holds up his harmonica and gently kicks his guitar. "I played her music sometimes, don't use those bawdy minds when I say something like that."
Stop laughing, he thinks to himself. But he's just so damn funny that there's no other way to react. "So many backlashes in her life and, I don't know how to feel about them, she practically lived on her knees after the whole situation with Andy. Sid tried to help her, and I wanted to but I knew she wouldn't let me, and seeing her at a low would be a heartbreak," Billy says. He takes a drag from his cigarette and several people are wheezing and he can almost hear their lungs burning, smoldered in flames and ash. Now Billy laughs at everyone else and flicks the cigarette butt at the man in the chair in front of him. "Not so funny now, is it?"
The man scowls and shuffles his cards. "People say that your relationship with Edie Sedgwick was controversial. What do say to that?"
"People? Who's been saying shit like that?" he asks.
The woman behind one camera rolls her eyes and points at Billy's face. "Watch your language," she whispers.
"Pretty much just Lou Reed."
"Oh, well, I say fuck him." He smiles and winks at the camerawoman who simply just dismisses him with a flick of her wrist. "I don't know Lou Reed and he doesn't know me, so he should just stay out of my business."
The interview ends when Billy recieves a call from his wife, he apologizes for the inconvenience and puts the cigarette out against the bottom of the marble ashtray on the table beside him. With his rucksack over his shoulder and wayfarers hanging from the bridge of his nose, he waves and closes the door behind himself. "Goodbye fellas and lady fellas! See ya' all in Hell."
The ride home is painful because of the cloudburst and all he can think of is her eyes and her smile and everything about her. So Billy drives his thoughts and his tears home in the rain.
"Edie Sedgwick was, a superstar. No doubt in my mind about that," Billy laughs. His smile is fluctuant and there are so many cameras around that he doesn't know which one to look in to. Too many people are directing him and yelling and someone in the corner has a polaroid camera and keeps snapping pictures of him when he least expects it. The patchwork scarf around his neck is gagging him; the interview is so tiring that he wants to use it as a noose and hang himself from the bolsters above. "She sure was a beauty. Did you know that she used to be a brunette? My buddy Sid told me." He chuckles once more and shakes his head. "Why would I even ask that? Everyone could see it in her roots."
Billy twists his wedding band nervously and halts the interviewer for a few seconds while he rifles through his satchel. He quickly pulls out a crumpled piece of paper and hands it to the man, it's a drawing of an albatross sketched in pencil. "Who drew this?"
"Who else?" Billy asks. "She gave this to me when I first met her. Edie was so talented, but she told me that she'd rather be an actress, I was a little disappointed to be honest." The lights are on his face and they are so lucent that he has to put his sunglasses on. The picture is being passed around and even the photostat man in the corner gets a look at it, everyone is amazed and their smiles are brighter then the lights and tinsel shining in his face. "I believe that she was an exceptional woman, when she walked into the room, people were almost absorbed into her energy.
"Woman after her were ten worlds apart from her mannerism, they tried and they tried so hard to be like her." He stops to light a cigarette and inhales and the butane runs through the seams embedded in his skin. "And the crazy thing about it is, she was still a role model to so many people, even after the fall-out with drugs and addiction." He shakes his head. "And I will always love her."
"What about Andy Warhol? What do you think about him?"
He grunts and the butt of his cigarette falls onto the earthenware, his irritation is prominent. "Andy Warhol? I told Edie that he would be the death of her, but she didn't want to listen." Billy scratches the chest hairs peeking out of his shirt. "Can I call him a dick? Is it alright to say 'dick' during an interview?" He doesn't wait for an answer. "Well, I already did so I guess it's alright." His expression is smug and the kodachrome man watches with wide eyes and interviewer is taken aback.
"You sure are blunt, Mr. Quinn."
"Blunt? You think I'm blunt? Hell, man, I'm just honest."
Everyone but Billy laughs because Andy Warhol is not a gelastic subject, he is an off-color, lewd man who takes advantage of young girls looking for fame and notoriety. The thought of his white hair and white face and underground movies made Billy sick to his stomach; he still remembers the day Edie chose to stay and from then on she was nothing but a broken marionette. The drugs and the needles and the bruises, it was just too painful to think about.
"Sid was Edie's friend from Cambridge, and he loved her and cared for her so much. He knew how to make her happy." He breaks into a fit of laughter. "But I had my own ways of making the girl happy, I will not agree nor deny whatever accusations you have to throw at me. I mean, come on, guys." Billy holds up his harmonica and gently kicks his guitar. "I played her music sometimes, don't use those bawdy minds when I say something like that."
Stop laughing, he thinks to himself. But he's just so damn funny that there's no other way to react. "So many backlashes in her life and, I don't know how to feel about them, she practically lived on her knees after the whole situation with Andy. Sid tried to help her, and I wanted to but I knew she wouldn't let me, and seeing her at a low would be a heartbreak," Billy says. He takes a drag from his cigarette and several people are wheezing and he can almost hear their lungs burning, smoldered in flames and ash. Now Billy laughs at everyone else and flicks the cigarette butt at the man in the chair in front of him. "Not so funny now, is it?"
The man scowls and shuffles his cards. "People say that your relationship with Edie Sedgwick was controversial. What do say to that?"
"People? Who's been saying shit like that?" he asks.
The woman behind one camera rolls her eyes and points at Billy's face. "Watch your language," she whispers.
"Pretty much just Lou Reed."
"Oh, well, I say fuck him." He smiles and winks at the camerawoman who simply just dismisses him with a flick of her wrist. "I don't know Lou Reed and he doesn't know me, so he should just stay out of my business."
The interview ends when Billy recieves a call from his wife, he apologizes for the inconvenience and puts the cigarette out against the bottom of the marble ashtray on the table beside him. With his rucksack over his shoulder and wayfarers hanging from the bridge of his nose, he waves and closes the door behind himself. "Goodbye fellas and lady fellas! See ya' all in Hell."
The ride home is painful because of the cloudburst and all he can think of is her eyes and her smile and everything about her. So Billy drives his thoughts and his tears home in the rain.