Angel of Suburbia

I sat back in the tattered recliner, breathing in the California air; a mixture of pollutants from the cars that drove back and forth constantly overhead, and the warmer air and ashes nearby that protruded from the barrels that held our bonfires.
My name is Nikki Bladel, and I live in southern California. Right now, I’m spending my time where I always do, under a section of overpass from Highway 76. A big, widespread area covered in graffiti, weeds, and our trash. It became a large hangout for the area’s ‘punk’ scene. The rebels of our town that simply want a place to do what they enjoy. It’s a home-like area for me. A place for me to escape when I needed to. Of course it isn’t the most desirable area to ‘hang-out’ to the naked eye, but for us… it was a safe haven. A place for fun, variety, and shenanigans.
I looked around, seeing what everyone was up to. The graffiti guys were standing near some pillars, spraying something onto one that I couldn’t make out. A few others guys were playing with some fire, and near the sofa that was placed near the center of our area was a stereo playing an old Ramones song. Most of the girls of the group were on that sofa, talking with each other or standing adorned to their boyfriend’s hip. A few danced to the music, which you could tell were Ramones fans.
I took a deep breath and closed my eyes, leaning my head back onto the headrest.

“Nikk’!” I heard a male voice call, gaining my attention. I opened my eyes immediately, searching for the source of the sound. To my right, Jimmy Taylor approached, the clanking of his chains and keys rattling together echoing down the way. I acknowledged him, standing up.
“Hey Jimmy. Where’s MJ?” I asked, confused by the lacking of his female companion that was usually always around him.
“She’s…” he paused, taking a deep breath, and rolled his eyes. “I don’t know. I called her, told her to come out, but she’s pissed at me for some reason.”
“What’d you do?” I asked.
“I don’t know.” he replied. “I never really know. She’s just a pissy girl, I guess.” he said, looking to his left, towards the other groups of people. I followed his gaze.
“What is it?” I asked him, wondering why he seemed so off today. He ignored me for a moment, then looked back at me.
“What? Oh, it’s nothing.” he declared, waving his hand in a dismissing motion. “You got your iPod on you?” he asked, putting his hands in his pocket and jumping up and down twice. I gave him a look, a, ‘what’s wrong with you?’ look, but he ignored it.
“Yeah, yeah, right here.” I said, handing it to him. It was usual for me, to share my iPod with him. He didn’t have one, but I did. I stole it from an old ‘friend’ of mine, erased their data and put new songs on it. Soon enough, it became not only mine, but Jimmy’s iPod, where we put together the music WE liked, and shared it.
He swiftly took the device out of my hand, unraveling the ear buds that were wrapped around it, and put one in his ear. “Thanks, Nikk’.”
“No problem.” I said, sitting back down in the chair. Jimmy walked off, probably going off to meet up with Eli or something.