West Coast

Lacey and Cassidy left Blue Eyes baring white teeth and toasting red cups. Lacey couldn't stand still, she was elated to have a job in such a well-known place with, not only a seemingly great boss, but with Cassidy as well! Cassidy watched as Lacey danced around him and wandering into the streets pulling pirouettes while managing to avoid oncoming traffic. Cassidy threw his head back in laughter, downed the rest of his drink, and waved at cars that stopped for him. When he met up with Lacey, she threw her arms around his neck in a gracious hug, which he returned. Putting her down, she finished what was left of her drink and they started walking along the strip. Cassidy lost count of how many times Lacey had thanked him and he begged her to stop, which she did eventually.

"You ready to head back?" Cassidy asked as they found themselves coming up on the beach again.

"Actually," Lacey responded, "I think I'm gonna hang out here for a little while."

"You sure? Dope fiends and sexual predators exist in California too, you know."

Lacey laughed as her friend's half-kidding warning, "Yeah, Cas, I'll be fine. I can take care of myself." She looked at him over her shoulder smugly and they saluted each other with two fingers as they parted ways.

Walking the beach alone, Lacey felt every bone in her body when the wind chill hit her softly. She smiled to herself as she thought about her new friends and this weird direction her life was taking her. She felt like her skeleton, like California was all it took to taste the milk in her bones, like she belonged her. New York gave her thick skin, but California tore her to shreds, in the most beautiful way possible. She started thinking of what makes up people, of the stories she's never heard, of everything she still wants to do. It was all starting to feel possible. She tried to retract her excitement countless times while she was here. She lost count how many times her hopefulness fucked her over, how many times she put her happiness is someone's hands and they dropped it, letting it smash into pieces. This time, she was in charge of her happiness. Smiling to herself again, she finally felt in control of her life. After this long, goddamn fight, she finally felt like she was winning.

Most of the people who were leftover on the beach before had dispersed. Part of Lacey was relieved, no one to tap her on the shoulder and open up her skull, no one else to think about but herself. It had been a long time since Lacey simply sat and stared at the sea and she understood every painting during the 18th century and every poem from every lonely heart, and every song that made you feel like you were drowning. She hated comparing herself to the universe, she hated the realization of how small she actually was and how unimportant her life was, but here, amidst the crystal sand and the stars, she allowed herself to make the comparison and, for once, she felt a little larger, a little more important, and she saluted God as she had Cassidy.

She decided to take a seat on the sand, by where she had been laying earlier that day, but even Maggie had packed up and gone. Lacey wrapped her arms around herself against the gentle breeze, enough to give her goosebumps. Looking along the shoreline, she saw a dark figure by the water. She kept watching and made out that it was a man, keeping warm with a leather jacket and a cigarette. Though he was pretty far away, she felt him meet her eyes and she averted her eyes and got back in her head. Laying back, she lit a cigarette herself and rested her head on one of her arms. Moments of the past couple days floated around her head like sugarplums, she felt the corners of her mouth tugging up and up to her ears.

"What are you smilin' at?" Lacey opened her eyes and sat up quickly at the sound of the stranger's velvet voice behind her.

Confused, she looked behind her at the man in the leather jacket staring down at her with a smirk.

"Hi," she said, waiting to see what he wanted. He tried to make out her features through the growing darkness of the sky. He could see the shadow of her upper lip like that of a renaissance painting and lightly laughed as he took a seat on the sand beside her.

Lacey didn't know what to make of this man next to her. In New York, she probably would've just left without any attempt of a greeting, scurrying down the street to get away. But she wasn't in New York anymore and a part of her longed to meet as many of these kind Californian souls as she could. So she just sat there and looked at him through the curtain of the darkness. The first thing she noticed were his eyes, as blue as the sea when she first saw it driving in. She tried to take in the rest of his face, but she kept getting pulled into his eyes, like the tides pull into the moon.

"What are you thinking about, there, girly?" He asked her when he realized she wasn't going to speak up.

Lacey turned her head back to the ocean and took a drag on her cigarette before she answered, "To be honest, I was just thinking of my life, you know, relatively."

They chuckled together at the broadness of the topic and he didn't push her to continue. The man kept looking at her, barely ever glancing at the vast sea before them. Hanging his arms loosely on his propped knees, he rubbed his hands together and picked his nails with an odd sort of frustration. Lacey noticed how adamant he was as he was digging into his skin and she could lightly make out dark stains on the man's knuckles. She wasn't sure why she didn't flinch or get up to leave after seeing that, but she remained where she was.

"Was that you, earlier?" She asked, as if she was asking about the weather, "the one who pounded that guy's face?"

The man stopped playing with his hands and put out his Parliament in the sand, sparks still flying until he stepped on it.

"Yeah," was all he said as he cupped the flame in his hand to light his new cigarette with a match. He flicked his wrist to put out the flame and looked at Lacey, waiting for her response, more specifically, a shout of horror or a speech about how unnecessary violence is. He was no stranger to either.

Oddly, though, Lacey just nodded her head. "What'd he do?"

"What?" The man blinked at how calm she was, "well, he, uh, we were racing our bikes and he through a wrench while I was riding and uh, it fucked my bike up pretty bad."

"A guy fucks with your bike and you fuck with his face?" She asked rhetorically, "sounds fair to me."

For a second the man thought she was being sarcastic, he listened carefully for a scoff, but it never came. She genuinely seemed unphased by it all. A wave of silence wafted over them as the only light on their faces was the moon. Simultaneously, the two strangers crushed their cigarettes in the sand and pulled another couple out of their pockets. They looked at each other a shared a smile. Lacey lit up with her zippo and the man fumbled in his pockets for a lighter. She motioned him to stop and she flicked her zippo for him. He took as drag and Lacey just looked at his face for a second.

"What are you smoking?" He asked her.

Lacey always hated small talk but there was something about this that didn't make it feel like small talk, they were already comfortable with each other's silence.

Exhaling, she answered, "Virginia Slims, you?"

"Parliaments," the man answered, holding his fingers away from his face, looking at the orange flame and knocked the ashes into the sand.

Lacey was getting antsy just sitting there. She held her cigarette between her teeth and pushed to her feet. The man just looked at her as the roles reversed for a minute. Giggling, she held her hand down for him.

"Well, get up, then." She said playfully. The man grabbed her hand and got to his feet, brushing off his coat. Walking together brought conversation more effortlessly, it was nice for the both of them. It turns out they were both born in New York. Lacey was beginning to think everyone in California came from New York. The two of them laughed at that. They shared stories of what they remembered from the city, most of it were vague stories of when the man was in high school and Lacey clarifying the setting a bit. They lost count of how many cigarettes they each went through that night.

"Fuck, I used to hate New York. I thought it was ruled by advertisements and facsists and greedy bastards," the man chuckled a bit, "but I don't know, I miss it sometimes. It's just curious, I moved out here as soon as I could get enough money and never looked back, but, how different would my life be if I stayed, ya know?"

Lacey nodded and looked up at the moon, wondering what she would've been doing if she was still back home. "Yeah, no, I know what you mean." She agreed.

"Crazy shit." He spoke, after a minute. Lacey shivered, honestly unsure if it was the breeze or his voice that brought it on, but she didn't say anything.

"Oh shit," He said, as if he remembered something important, "you're cold, aren't you?" He started to shrug off his jacket but she stopped him, insisting she was fine, insisting him to keep it. It was a nice gesture, but she still didn't know this man, she didn't even know his name. Plus, she sort of liked the way her skin would stand on end.

The topic of conversation got progressively lighter the further they made it down the shoreline, ignoring everything but each other and the sea. The talk of New York led to sad childhood tales of woe, which somehow led to childhood movies, leading to actors and soundtracks, leading to music interests and poetry. They howled in agreeance about the icons their generation couldn't help but idolize and they recalled songs that got them through the long nights.

"Morrison is my king," Lacey spoke, clear and true.

The man laughed and admitted that he loved the Doors, "but your king? C'mon!"

"What?! Kings represent direction and loyalty, they give people something to follow and believe and sing about, a man who does good and evil, and looks damn good doing it!" Lacey laughed as she explained herself.

They discussed this for a while until Lacey felt her phone go off in her pocket. It shocked her out of the conversation. She had completely forgotten she even had her phone. The man looked a little disappointed when he saw her stop walk, pull the phone out and answer it.

Cassidy was calling to make sure was okay, recalling the dope fiend comment he had made earlier before they split ways. Lacey assured she was perfectly fine and thanked him for looking out for her. She assured she would be home that night, well, that morning, considering it was 2:30 in the morning.

"Well, shit," Lacey said after she hung up and put her phone away. The man looked at her, letting her to go on. "It's 2:30!" Lacey said with a laugh and leaned on the man's leather-clad shoulder. He laughed with her and threw an arm comfortably over her shoulder.

"You gotta run soon?" He asked into her hair as they calmed down.

"Not soon, exactly, just eventually. I'd like to sleep tonight." She was surprised she managed to stay awake this long since she didn't get much sleep the night before either. She pulled away from the guy with a smile playing on her lips and they continued to walk like that, close, with his arm around her shoulder.

"C'mon, I'll walk you back."

/////

It wasn 3 in the morning when they arrived to the front door of the apartment complex Lacey now called home.

"How'd we do on time?" The man asked.

Lacey untangled herself from his arm, playing it off as a dance to hide the fact she didn't want to leave. She looked at her phone, saying, "Perfectly, it's 3 AM. The time of lovers and loners!" She exclaimed.

He didn't bother to ask her what that even meant, he just smiled widely at her, and she smiled back a sad smile.

"This was a really fucking nice night." She thanked him.

The man in front of her shrugged, "Yeah, it was alright." Lacey hit his arm in response to his sarcastic joke and they laughed small, silent laughs.

"No, you're right, it was really nice." The man grazed her cheek with the back of his fingers. Lacey could feel the dried blood still on his knuckles, but again, she didn't shy away. He turned away from Lacey and started walking. She just smiled and started heading towards the door, still facing this stranger that she knew so much about. She was about to turn around and open the door when he called out to her.

"Fuck, wait," He was facing her now, but still further away than he was. Laughing, he asked, "I want to see you again." Lacey felt a wonderful little flutter in her stomach.

"What's your name?" Lacey asked him.

"Alec, Alec Cirri." He responded with a smirk. "What's yours?"

Lacey smirked back at Alec and reached around her back under her shirt and unhooked her lacy bra and tossed it to Alec saying, "Here's a hint." He caught it, but had no idea what the hell to do with it. He looked back up to see the door closing. He stood there until the fifth floor window light up and he caught her staring down at him. He stood waiting for a clearer answer, but walked off knowing he wasn't going to get one.