Demolition Lovers

So ya

Thought ya

Might like to

Go to the show.

To feel that warm thrill of confusion,

That space cadet glow.

-Pink Floyd's Into The Flesh

June 1st, 1995. Graduation Day.

Today is the day. Today is the day I'm finally free. Not only will I move out of here, and into my grandmother's house, but for the whole summer I'll be in New York City for Rock N Roll fantasy camp. Dorky I know, but it's the best place for someone that loves playing music to meet some of their favorite artists. Some of the ones that will be there will be Bruce Dickinson, John Lord, Mick Jagger, Keith Richards, Lou Reed, Nick Mason (no relation, believe me I looked into it. You have no idea how disappointed I was). And so many more. I heard a rumor that Ringo Starr is going to be one of the mentors for us aspiring drummers. Can you say score?

Dad surprised me with the plane ticket, and information packet that came in the mail, just 3 days ago. In it, it said to pack the usual things you'd need, (clothes, toiletries ect.) but also to pack books, movies, and other personal items considering that we'll be living in an apt for 3 months. I'll have a roommate, but they're two bedroom, one bath apts. So it's all good. I'm shaking like a leaf, considering I leave tonight right after graduation. Once I give my speech, I'm grabbing my diploma and getting the fuck out of dodge. Away from everyone, and everything I loathe. I'm going to a place where no one knows me, and I have a chance to make friends.

Mother isn't too keen on this. She says if frivolous, and I should be more like my sister. I need to go to pre law school. Not some 'fantasy that wont come true' camp. And what really twisted the knife in the shrew's heart....I chose to go to Cambridge Visual Arts & Photography College. Yes, that's right...I picked my career. I want to be a photographer. To be more specific I want to be a music photographer. Take the promo pictures for bands, go on tour with them and take backstage pictures for their liner notes. That would be amazing. It would give me a chance to travel, and to be around the things I love.

Not that I wouldn't have a hard time traveling anyways. When Gran died she had changed her will to leave me everything. That included the house, the old cars from over the years, and the millions of dollars that she had. Old family oil money. Right now...sitting in my bank account is around 20 million. Pretty nice huh? Dad was pissed. He thought him, and uncle Kasey were going to get the money, but nope...it all went to me. Every last dime of it. I was called ungrateful, unworthy, and any other name in the book by him. Uncle Kasey didn't care though, he thought it was great...and had been expecting it since I was born apparently.

My uncle, besides my grandmother, and my brother, is the only other family member that I actually have a good relationship with. He's the older brother of the two, and super awesome. He's this kick ass burnout hippie. He served his time in 'Nam, and when he got out he started protesting with the rest of the hippies, smoking copious amounts of herbal medication, and listening to some of the best bands ever. He got me into The Beatles, Led Zeppelin, Pink Floyd, Iron Maiden, Black Sabbath, The Misfits, ect. I mean really, to have an uncle like that...I'm pretty damn lucky. I know he's going to be in the crowd tonight cheering me on. He's probably going to be the only one besides Kyle. I know if Gran were alive, she'd be the loudest. She's always been the loudest.

I heard my door open, and I turned my head to see who disturbed my peace. Ah, just Kyle....with the video camera. Christ Almighty, he never goes anywhere with out that thing. See instead of being a Marine he should have taken my route and gone for the more artsy career. Like be a film director. You never know, my brother could have been the next Spielburg, or something. But nooooo, he just had to do something big and tough like. Fucking jerk, couldn't live up to his full potential. Worried that they'd call him a queer or some shit, what a pussy.

"Well don't you look all done up and purty."

"You know, if you keep exaggerating the accent, and this some how gets leaked to the general public...people are actually going to believe we talk like that."

"But we do darlin' we really do."

"No people from East Texas talk like that, we the people from Dallas do not."

"Oh really? And how do we sound to the Yankee bastards?"

"Like this. Exactly like how I'm talking."

"So, normal?"

"Yes you dolt....normal...ish."

"You forget dearest baby sister, we aint normal."

"I know we aint normal, we're far from it. And will you get that camera out of my face, or just turn it off?"

"And don't you forget it."

He winked at me, totally ignoring my request to get the camera off of me. Honestly, I'm not camera shy...but I'm trying to get ready. It's already enough pressure trying to remember everything, with out having to feel like you're putting on a show. With the camera in my face I just feel like a trained seal, or monkey...dealers choice on the animal you want to see preform tricks. It's bad enough I'm trying my damnedest to not stab myself in the eye with my eyeliner, but knowing Kyle, he's probably zooming into my face as we speak, it's just weird. And I know all about weird.

"Okay, stop that. You're making me nervous."

"I just want to capture as much of this day as possible. Something to remember you by when you go off and become a big famous rock star, or photographer. Either way I want to see my baby sis all cute, innocent, and flustered because she has to make a grand speech at graduation."

"Yeah, and knowing my luck, I'll be boo'd off the stage."

"Is it really that bad for you?"

I sighed, "You have no idea Kyle. You haven't been around."

He put the camera on the dresser and made a move to hug me. Which normally I wouldn't accept, because I hate being pitied, but I needed one at the moment. Everything's been piling up like no tomorrow. I can feel myself sinking more and more everyday. I can't find a way out of the pit I've dug for myself...and right now all that seems to make me feel better is my perfect brother wanting to comfort me. Who knew he'd actually be useful in stressful situations. I did.

"If I had known..."

"You'd what? Gone AWOL? I don't think so. I'd have kicked your ass if you did. Remember Kyle, I'm a big girl, I can take care of myself."

"Obviously not, if people are treating you like dog shit."

"OPEN YOUR FUCKING EYES! EVERYONE DOES! MOM, DAD, KATHY, ALL OF THEM! YOU, GRAN, AND UNCLE KASEY ARE THE ONLY ONES THAT DON'T!"

I had shoved him back, so I could yell at him. The only downside to coke is the constant mood-swings, oh and of course the threat that I might die...if I do one too many lines. Thankfully, I live in the attic, and I had sound proofed it two years ago. I really didn't need my parents, to come up here wondering why I was making a fuss at their precious baby boy. Yes, my parents may not talk about many things, but ganging up on me when one of the elders pisses me off, is one of them. Yeah, it's not easy being me, 99% of the time. I looked into the mud brown eyes of my brother. I always wished he had mine, dad, and gran's eyes. But he got mother's. It's a shame really, but what can you do. He looked at me, and a tear rolled down his cheek. Shit, Kyle never cries, and when does I know I've struck a nerve.

"Look, don't cry Ky, it's fine. I just snapped. I'm not blaming you for anything, so don't blame yourself. Now, let's go and get this over with. I wanna get in and get out a quickly as humanly possible. No stalling. Are we good?"

He stared at me, wiping his eyes, as if nothing had been there just seconds before.

"Yeah sissy, we're good."

"Good."

I had slipped on a pair of black heels, to go with my black and red corset dress. It was strapless, it flowed out just above my knees, and I paired it with black pantyhose. Not that anyone would see it anyway. I mean I'm going to be wearing a polyester nightmare, called a graduation gown. I had curled my naturally straight hair, making it fall in soft waves. Thankfully the top of my head will forever be straight, so the cap they make us wear wont mess up my hair too bad.

Now, normally I'm not a girly girl. I don't get into dresses, I can't stand dances, and the only shopping I like doing is my artistic pursuits, or books. Comic, non fiction, fiction, ect. I prefer ripped jeans, & t-shirts, to Polo's & skirts, and converse over heels. But today I actually have to try and look like I give a shit about this. Which I don't. If it was up to me, I'd skip this whole ordeal and just pick up my diploma when I get back at the end of the summer. But being valedictorian has this horrid downside, where I have to give a speech, and get judged by my peers one final time. I can do this, I can do this.

"Come on sis, I'll drive. They're going to meet us there by the way."

"Who's they?"

"Mom, Dad, Uncle Kasey, Kathy, that prick she's hitched to Tom, and of course your little Kit Kat."

We had made our way down the stairs, and out the front door where my pride and joy rested. My 1967 mustang convertible. Blue, and white, and all mine. I slid into the passenger side, and Kyle took the wheel. Since it was my big day, big brother decided to treat me like a princess. Which I was uncomfortable with, but I can't tell him no. He wont have it. Dammit.

"Ugh, I really don't want the princess of bitchatude and her dillhole husband there."

"Me either, but mother invited them, and Kathy said & I quote 'I wouldn't miss my baby sister graduate. Let's hope she makes her big sis proud.' Fucking bitch."

"Yeah, I'm sure it was filled with fake sweetness, and a malice smile."

"You know what I say kid?"

"What?"

"Make today a graduation to remember. Like mine, where we had pizza delivered in the middle of it."

"That was fucking awesome."

"I know, I'm the one that made the call."

"It was my idea."

"I still made the call."

"Whatever."

"So, what will you be doing to make this graduation amazingly awesome?"

"Nothing, I'm going to go up there make my speech and leave. I don't want to be there longer than necessary. Do we have an understanding? Now, onto a more serious subject, you will be house sitting for me over the summer right?"

"Yes, and yes I'll water the plants, and yes I'll make sure to take Rita out for a drive at least once a week. No, I will not turn Gran's house into a flop house for myself and my bum ass friends, and no, I will not sleep in Gran's room....nor will I break anything. Did I cover all the questions you were about to ask me?"

"You forgot one, did you mail my belongings to the apt. in NYC?"

"Yes, already taken care of. They'll be there tonight when you get there. I had them expressed shipped. Don't worry kid, I got this."

"That's what I'm worried about." I muttered under my breath, but he didn't hear me.

We pulled into the parking lot of the dreaded place that has been the bane of my existence for four years. Winchester High School. Home of The Fighting Falcons, and some of the most unpleasant people I have ever come across. The teachers were attentive, as long as it suited their needs, the jocks were dicks, the cheerleaders were bitches, and everything else sucked. The food would make you sick, the pep rally's would give you headaches, pretty much anything that could go wrong at this high school, went wrong. Murphy's Law if you will.

"Okay, I'm going to get a seat up front so I can tape your speech, I'll meet you back at the car when you're done. Then we'll head straight for the airport. You wont have to deal with the parents or anything."

"Sounds like a most excellent plan brother."

"Good."

He turned around and walked off the the seats, grabbing one in the center front row facing the stage. Of course. He wanted to get a good shot of everything. I walked into the building that I was tormented in, one last time. Trying my damnedest to find the principal. Arthur Delmar, another odious human being. He's a short pudgy man, with horrible balding hair, that he just needs to shave it off and finish the job. He has beady little eyes, and a mousy face. And he's always looked at me like I'm the gum on the bottom of the shoe of this school. Fuck him, fuck all over him.

I caught sight of Delmar, who gave me a curt nod to the stage of where I'd be sitting. Indicating that I should just go sit on stage, and wait until this shit started and it was my turn to speak. Which I was more than willing to do. The sooner the better in my opinion. Hell, let me open the fucking thing, and leave....I'd be fucking happy with that. But sadly that isn't an option. I have to wait for him to make his little announcements, and everything before I can even think of getting a turn. Christ Almighty this is going to take forever.

Not too long after I sat down, I saw family members off all students filling in the stands. I heard the traditional 'pomp and circumstance' begin to play, and watched as my peers walked in lines filling in the seats in front of me. Facing me. Some sneering in my direction, some rolling their eyes, and others, sitting, rolling their eyes out of boredom. Can't says I blame them. I was positively bored out of my skull and just wanted to get out of there, so I could get on that nice big plane, and head to NYC. I want to play dammit, I want to meet some of my idols, and I want to make friends.

Now, I know what you're thinking, Kayla...how could you not have one friend all through high school. Well it's not that I didn't have friends...I had people I occasionally talked to in the clubs I was in, but I mainly kept to myself. Even if I was the leader of some of the groups. Like the drama club, I was president, Debate, I was president, I wasn't the swim captain, but I was one of the best on the team, taking our team to regionals. Did I get any high-fives for it? No. Not a damn one. Well, except for a verbal one from Kyle. That was about it. The only 'friend' I have is my co-worker at 'Rocka Rolla Music Emporium' and she's also my dealer. Hence why we're 'friends'. I guarantee that if I didn't give her money, and she didn't give me my drugs, we wouldn't talk.

After everyone sat in their respective seats that fat, balding, pudgy moron we call a principle stepped up to the podium, and the room went quiet waiting for the dumb bastard to speak. I just rolled my eyes, and tuned him out for the most part, until he started talking about me. My ears perked up, knowing it was almost my chance to speak, and get the hell out of here. Thank god.

"And our next speaker is our valedictorian. There isn't much to say about her. Except that she's humble, hard working, competitive when needed, and her achievements are impressive. Everyone, Kayla Mason."

I stood up and walked to the podium, pulling out the note cards that my speech was on. And looked out into the crowd. There was the typical polite clapping that the mindless drones that humans are, were taught at an early age. But then there was the whooping, and hollering of my brother, Uncle Kasey, and Katarina. Which made me smile. A small one though...I wouldn't want my face to crack or anything.

"KAYLA, KAYLA, KAYLA! WHOO GO KAYLA!!!!"

I waved in their direction and cleared my throat. I looked over to my family, and what I saw was interesting. There were three huge grins, (guess who those belong to), a small smile from my father (odd), and a look of boredom from my mother, sister, and brother in law (typical).

"Thank you Principle Delmar. Parents, teachers, faculty members, students, and friends. Welcome, we never thought this day would come."

There was a slight polite chuckle at my 'joke'.

"We prayed for this day for so long. We crossed off the days on our calender, counted down the minutes, hours, and seconds, and now that it's here-"

"BOO, GET OFF THE STAGE GOTH FREAK!"

"GO SLIT YOUR WRISTS YOU BITCH! NO ONE WANTS YOU UP THERE!"

"FUCKING FREAK, MOVE!"

Did I call it or what?

The obscenities kept flying out of these jock assholes mouths, and then somewhere in the midst, some of them started throwing things at me. Coke cans, mainly. See, this is the bullshit I've had to put up with on a daily basis. And it ends today. Fuck this, screw my prepared speech.

There was a coke can flying straight for my head, and using my quick reflexes, I caught it, and threw it straight for the guy that threw it at me. Tyler Addison. Star Quarterback, and leading dumbass jock. The can hit him right in the head, as intended by me.

"ENOUGH!"

The place went silent, you couldn't even hear the crickets or the cicadas. Everyone turned to look at me, and I was fuming. I didn't want to do this speech, I didn't want to be here, for this exact reason. What should be one of the happiest moments of my life was, yet again officially ruined by assholes. I felt like Carrie when they dumped the pig's blood on her, when she was named prom queen.

"I'm so sick and tired of being picked on by all of you people. I'm so glad that this day has finally come, so I can get away from y'all, and become a much better and happier person. But before that can happen y'all need to shut the fuck up, so I can give this mandatory speech. Now, I'd like to make some dedications."

"To the jocks of the school that tormented me, shoved me into lockers, and trash cans. I hope that when you're in whatever college you got into purely for your football skills, that you have a career ending injury. And when that happens you'll be forced to drop out of school, because you're too stupid to pass your classes. Considering most of you had Coach Miller pay off the teachers to pass you, so you could play and take our team to state. Oh yeah, don't think I don't know about that. And when you drop out, I'm going to squeal in delight as I see you in your red Mc. Donalds uniform when you're 30 years old, with a drinking problem, because you could have been somebody back in the day."

"To the cheerleaders, and other 'popular' girls that made my life hell by stealing my clothes, tripping me in the halls, or throwing whatever sanitary product you had on hand at the time. I hope you get fat. I hope you're living in a double wide trailer, with an alcoholic abusive husband, with eight kids, barefoot and pregnant with your ninth. I hope your dreams of being a weather girl, or a Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader, never happens, and you've become just as miserable as you've made me."

"To the teachers, and other staff members. Thank you so much for helping me today, sarcasm is implied. Even just a few minutes ago you turned a blind eye to everything that happened. So you know what, fuck you...I hope all of y'all get fired. Coach Miller for bribing teachers to pass his players, and the teachers for taking the pay off. I hope you, Principle Delmar, get fired and thrown in jail for that little affair you had with Tiffany Morganston. You thought I didn't know did you? Ah, but I did. You see people you should treat the quiet smart kids with respect, we tend to have the dirty laundry. And we will air it out when the time is right. Like right now."

"So in conclusion, fuck you, fuck you, fuck you, and fuck all over this place. I can't wait to show up all of you people at our ten year reunion, when I'm a famous photographer, married to a rock star, and living the good life while the rest of y'all are where I said you're going to be. Thank you, and have a nice afternoon."

I turned heel, grabbed the 'book' with my name on it, that had my diploma. I made my grand decent off of the stage, while ripping that horrible gown, throwing it on the floor, and throwing my hat there along with it. I'd set it on fire, but I don't have my lighter on me. Stomping off the stage, I made my way to my car. Out of the corner of my eye I saw Kyle running towards me. Oh yeah, he still has my keys. When he reached me, I threw my stuff in the car, climbed into the passenger seat, and we took off for the airport. We were silent for a while, till he broke it.

"That was one hell of a memorable graduation moment sis. And you said you didn't want to cause a scene."

"Yeah well, when in Rome right?"

"Right. I'm proud of you."

"Thanks Ky."

After that is was quiet again, the only sound coming from my Beastie Boys tape, "Ill Communication" Sabotage was playing, and I cranked it up. Sometimes you just gotta blast some music to clear your head. Not to long though, we were at the airport and Kyle was helping me with my bags. He walked me through security, and we were saying goodbye at the gate. His face was scrunched up, like he wanted to say something, but didn't. Thankfully were were a little early so I could talk to him.

"What?"

""You look like shit Kay."

"Thanks." I grumbled, was that all?

"What happened to you kid?"

How could I tell him? That I did cocaine, I'm hooked on speed, and cigarettes and coffee are my legal vices? That I barely eat, mainly because the drugs don't make me hungry. That I'm too hyper to even thing about food. That since starting all this I've lost 40lbs? I can't tell him, not yet, and certainly not here. Generic statements are best.

"Stress? Parents? Losing Gran? Isn't it obvious?"

"I'm sorry. Kid, if I had known, I'd have visited more often...maybe get the unmentionables off of your back."

"It's fine, well it's not....but it will be. I'm going to Fantasy Camp."

He grinned at me, nudged my chin and said,

"Give 'em hell kid."

I beamed up at him,

"Always Kyle, always."

We hugged for a long time, and he kissed the top of my head. A nodding in understanding was there. We were those kind of siblings that didn't need to say I love you. We already knew. There's a reason that my brother is 'perfect'. Especially to me. Because sometimes he just gets me. And that's what matters right now.

He walked off, leaving me to board this plane by myself. I wasn't nervous...not at all I was stoked. by 8pm I'd be in NYC, in my new temp. apt., with a roommate. I got that gut feeling that something was going to be different. That something wonderful was going to happen. That things were looking up.

Oh how right, and yet wrong I was.