Purple Monster

She took another gulp of the burnt sugar tasting beer and nodded. Snake pulled a face, ‘its soo bad for you you realise.’ She shrugged and glugged some more – the dramatic effect was some waht ruined by her sloshing some of it onto her chin.

Silence stretched but it was companuable and she absorbed the metaphorical warmth from him, eventually he spoke, ‘you on the decks tonight?’

‘Of course’ she said.

He looked side ways at her, ‘you sure your not over doing it… I know your trying to pay for the bike as quickly as poss but you can’t keep this pace up you know.’

She sighed – she knew she could, she remebered exactly what hardships she’d been through and DJing was the least of them. Even if she was starting to feel drained and transparent like she was fading. ‘I get to sup the bike tomorrow.’ was her response.

He grinned, ‘can I help with that?’ she gave him a sharp look, he blushed, ‘I mean make you cups of tea and things?’ She smiled and gave a noncomital nod. Company would be good as long as he didn’t start rambling on about the latest cult gaming method he’d found. Her fingures begain to itch again, the engine was calling to her.

The suns warmth was soaking into her, soon she’d be far to hot but the dreams had been coming more lately and she remberred being so cold it had gotten into her bones. After a while Alexi came and shoed them away.

The Punk found herself wondering down to one of the resturants with Snake. He was he base player – he could do power cords like no one she’d met this side of the millenium, he was awkard and shy with a dress style garenteed to alienate him. She loved him.

This fact bubbled anger in her and she chose to ignore it, knowing where this feeling would leave and not wanting that yet again. They sat in the Underwater Room, the resturant was below the water line in a transparent bubble jutting out of the side of the island. She loved it here, she loved to swim in the water though had been avoiding doing so as it was still highly polluted from several centuries of polution – the mirade fish species swimming around the walls – bred from genetic rescues in captivity. Her mind could entire a tranquile state in that place, the blue rippled light made her take her lenses off and dream of mermaids.

She order the prawn cumbo and sat at a widow seat – the curve made her feel she was floating in the sea, she hummed gently whilst staring at the fish darting about. Snake watched her intently.

He ordered a kelp salad. She demolished the cumbo and sipped another beer. She felt bloated and nerves for that nights performance began to enter into her mind. She watched snake pick at his salad intent on making sure he wasn’t accidently ingesting any bugs. She grinned and he looked up.

‘What?’ she shook her head and wondered about the perculuarities of the human animal.

‘I was thinking of trying a new set tongiht,’ she said eventually – he looked at her suprised.

‘I was thinking transgressive goth?’ he whistled, ‘ yeah I’m abit worried about how it will go down .’

‘Do it as a mixed set with some electronica?’ he suggested.

‘Thats an idea.’ she said nodding. Her clientelle where holiday makers who had heard of the historical Ibiza and Magaluff and wanted clubbing old style. But they didn’t know thier history and all the music styles had been lumped together – their was a vague sense of the sub-culters in the way people dressed. But recently their had been an influx of youth who did know what they liked and they were pressing for more of the edge musics and the Punk was egar to cater to them the music being what she her self championed.

She quaffed the rest of her beer and ordered a meso soup to go – salty thin soups preferably made with fish where a peference of hers and she had a craving watching all those fish swimming around. She also wanted to go swimming but needed to get her decks ready for show.

Snake followed her to the lock up where she sorted out her mobile decks – selecting which retro style lazar discs to take with her – DJing was more than hitting buttons people expected a show and that didn’t just mean audio. She through in her light boxes and Insipids instraments, live music always featured when she DJed. Snakes mouth twisted with disgust, ‘I really hate being a hack’ he muttered, she snorted.

‘It pays your food bills doesn’t it?’

He glared at her and she felt a strange sense of saticfaction.

They wheeled the trolly the rest of the way in silence. The Club was starting to look populated – mainly by staff and thier current holiday maker flings. Her and Snake begain to put the deck together making sure the optics where all in place – this was going to be a show with lights and effects, dry ice, foam and bubbles would also feature heavily.

She even had strings of lights imbedded in plastic tubing and roller skates. After 2 hrs of hard graft they were set up. They were just missing Bodge his drums where all set up and her decks and e-organ combined awaited her.

Bodge arrived 1/2 hour before the club was due to open – as always he was in a PVC dress this time a nun outfit complet with shiny plastic habit and a large glittering cross. His lipsticked lips surrounded by designer stubble trained into concentric lines on his chin and cheeks, he pouted. The Punk scowled at him, ‘Your late’ she snapped. He shrugged and they all sat down at a table still sticky from the previous night to disguess the evenings performance.

And then… And then it was show time!

The lights dimmed the glitter, leatherette adn denim clad partitioneers entered sporting the styles they thought had been around in the 20th century and getting it completely and utterly wronge – most of it was out of chroma which to be fair if it had existed in the sixties would have been used extensively but the subtle hippy patterns spent there time changing and shifting or at the very least changing colouors. The resident bacteria with there waste product pigments – food for other bacteria within the the microtubes of transparent buckytubes. The eithics of the clothing which were ecologies within their won right self contianed and potentially without limit had been an argument belonging to the last century. No conclusion had ever been reached and the cloths cycled through the various layers of society being tough and resilent as they were diverse.

Living art, it was somehow – tacky.

Glitter, PVC and a whole lot more paced within the Punks sight as she started the music thumping into the air. The light show followed quickly on its heels, the crowd were already swaying with the beat and she felt the pull of the evening – this twang inside her was what made this the best job she had ever had. The music filled her up until she was undulating with it. Her and Snake robot dancing with perfection. The choroyography of the Boy Band meets the swaying of the goth meet the moshing of the skater – the music was a living creature in her brian within her pulse. She summersulted and landed in the splits and then broke into a breack dance – emenently difficult as her hair was not designed for such moves.

She back flipped up right and went into an undulation dance which kicked into a tap performance and then she was rezing her decks once more, mixing tunes ad-hoc and gauging the audience reaction.

There were some dancing and some looking around awed – she kicked arse, at the back however there was a woman dressed all in black with a shiny white face ending in a widows peak just standing there, the Punk had to check the decs and when she looked back the woman was gone. The Punk hoped she’d imagined it shock herself at least mentally and continued into her next dance rutine.

An hour and a half later when the only reason she wasn’t dripping with sweat was becuase she was wearing a still suit she put on her pre-perpared track list and had a well earned sit down with the other two. She quaffed a litre and a half of water and chomped her way through a couple of portions of bar nuts.

The next set was were they actually played music and it was her favourite bit. She threw the last nut into her mouth and looked out across the club her lights flashing away making patterns on the walls, cieling and floor, she froze – that same pale face was staring at her. She turned to Snake to point the woman out but when she looked back she was again gone.

The Punks stomache gave a flip.

As a result her mind wasn’t on her gig and she slipped out of time with boys not once but twice, when they stopped for their second break she begain frantically scanning the crowd.

‘You ok?’ Snake asked, she nodded absantly at him.

‘You’re not’ was his response. Bodge showed he agreed with Snake. She snapped at them and stalked off to the toliets.

In the cubical as she aimed for the ‘liquid gold’ pot she felt bad – she should have confided in the boys instead of bitting their heads off but what if it was them what if they had finially decided to track her down again and worse what it it was the others if it was them then Snake and Bodge would be in danger – hell from what she had worked out the whole human race was in trouble if those dudes were about. Cursing to herself she realised that only half her pee had hit the gold pot – she’d only get half pay that ment. Nitrogen was prescouis and urine was a good concentrated form of it – all the toliets were designed with a gold pot you tried to get the wee in and the shit dip that went off for processing into she beleived floor tiles though she had heard that some people made jewellery from it.

As she was leaving the cubical a flash of black cuaght her eye but it was leaving into the main club so she couldn’t be sure – she should just leave NOW. But she didn’t want to, she was sure she was just being paranoid – it was probably just some girl who’d actually researched what goth dress was really like. She swollowed her mouth dry and re-entered the club.

The last third of the evening was basically an old school DJ set except that after each tune had been faded into the next they would go out amoungst the dancers and show them how to do various dance moves – sell them glow sticks and allow them to dance with her tubes of lights. Towards the end of the night the floor was slippery with bubble mix and spilt drinks – people always seemed to enjoy skidding around and pretending it was an ice rink once the lights had flipped on and the music stopped.

The pale face didn’t appear again and she started to relax – once more her parrania had gotten teh better of her.

She sank another two beers as she packed away her gear but as they were 2.8 % she didn’t think she’d even feel the alcohol in her system. Snake was watching her wearily waiting to have his head bitten off again, she felt bad for shouting at them earlier but also embarrassed and angry. Snake was getting under her skin and she didn’t want that – not again she didn’t want the hurt of being left. She pursed her lips and packed her decks away in silence.

Posted: Friday, November 6th, 2009 @ 8:13 pm
Categories: Uncategorized.
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