crunching your lifeline, sydney

[yaya]

unfinished.

just like hollywood,
but laced in sick

Maddy dropped the last of his boxes onto the floor with a deafening thud. With a relieved sigh, he stepped back to inspect his work. He drew a hand, red with strain, through his bangs while his lips flexed into a pout. The apartment was nice, there was no doubt, but it always took some time for Maddy to get used to new places. The way he moved around, you would expect him to adjust that easily. But a part of him still wanted his home back in New York, where he and Dominic would attempt to cook a soufflé. It would always end up as a beige-colored mess, usually having exploded in the oven. Maddy smiled to himself at the memory, but it faded just as quickly as it appeared. He was in no condition to still be thinking about Dominic. If he had to feel heartbreak over an ex, it should have been Nate. At least he was the most recent. Maddy anchored his upper row of teeth into his rosy lip and shook his head, looking dissatisfied with whatever was going through his brain at the moment. The clicking of expensive Stiletto heels pulled Maddy out from under his subconscious state of mind, unquestionably strapped to familiar feet. Maddy closed his eyes for a second, prepping himself for a fake mask of glee. A fair hand on his shoulder signaled his attention. He dropped his hands from his hips and turned around, his mouth already stretched into an unbelievable grin.

“Well?” Maddy noticed that Ashli’s voice was still smooth as ever, and was still followed by that priceless smile of hers. She was so cute, he could hardly stand it. “Hey, you.” Maddy only just finished his greeting before he was pulled into a warm embrace, if you could call it that. Ashli was so petite that her tiny body felt like air against his. Nonetheless, her display of affection was relished. After all, Maddy hadn’t seen his best friend in nearly a year. Ashli withdrew from the hug, her silver eyes shining with thrill. Maddy kept his forced grin afloat his lips, hoping that Ashli wouldn’t bring up the past year he’d spent in New Jersey. He shuddered at the thought; too many hospitals. Lucky for him she didn’t. “I’m so sorry I couldn’t be at the airport. My boss had me trapped in a meeting again.” He was almost positive she was talking about her job. If he remembered correctly, Ashli worked for a major record label company called ‘Fearless Records’. She was apart of the rich and famous lifestyle. In other words, she dined with the celebs. Literally. “No, it’s fine, Ash.” Maddy was only half-aware of what he was saying, but Ashli didn’t seem to notice. She was still going on about work. “We’re about to sign this local band, Uptown Scandal. Have you ever heard them?” Maddy shook his head, knowing there was no point in trying to talk at all. “Fuck, they’re amazing. You’ll have to listen to their demo with me.” Maddy bobbed his head in a nod. The best responses to Ashli were usually the silent ones.

Maddy loved Ashli to death, but sometimes she was so talkative that he felt like shoving the nearest animal down her throat. He didn’t hate her for it; it was in her bitchy, rich nature to run her mouth like that. Besides, she needed to keep her voice on its toes for any possible shit-talking opportunity that may arise. “And then we—oh, hold on.” The sound of Oli Sykes’s uncanny pig squeals erupted from Ashli’s Prada bag, indicating a phone call. Maddy shook his head with a knowing smile and watched as Ashli excused herself. She slid off to the side, disappearing into the theater room with the ever-popular “one sec” waving motion of her index finger. Maddy slid his hands inside his snug pockets, shifting his weight to his right heel. He would have looked ultra cool at that moment, had it not been for the tiny factor of no one being there to judge that. He twisted his lips into a thoughtful scowl, scrunching his nose as though someone had just pushed a lemon in his face. ‘Now what?’ seemed to be the appropriate question to ask his invisible audience. He fell into step without thinking and sauntered lazily into the kitchen. The stainless steel appliances made him grimace with inadequacy. He opened the fridge with one arm, keeping the other perched fashionably on his hip. The only thing he saw was a small bundle of celery. Aha, jackpot—not. Maddy guessed that eating was out this week in the fashion biz.

Maddy withdrew from the fridge with a sigh, leaning back against the clean, white counter behind him. He looked up through the kitchen’s stylish skylight, watching quietly as any bystander would do when observing nature at work: two falcons fighting in mid-air. Maddy chuckled to himself, mildly entertained. This went on for about five or so minutes before the falcons dropped from sight, one of them inevitably dead. The thought was grim, but Maddy had no trouble dealing with it. He had seen actual people die before, so a bird biting the dust was no big thing. Frustrated with his lack of productivity, Maddy snatched a notepad and a pen and started to scrawl a note. His girlish cursive was quite adorable, if he did say so himself. He tore the sheet of paper from the pad, turning around to slap it on the fridge. It was a Matrix moment.

Going somewhere. Be back later. Cell’s on.

Maddy stood back and admired his note for a moment before swiveling on his heel. He made his way to the door, grabbing his coat from the adjacent rack and making one hell of an exit; like Meryl Streep, if she had had a septum piercing and forty-seven layers of hairspray.

~

Maddy stepped into the mall a bit on the unwitting side. He looked more reserved than usual, with his shoulders tensely locked up near his neck and his stride slow and small. In his defense, there was a lot going on that head of his. He was mostly thinking about thinking, though. It was a strange ambition, but he went on with it anyway. The mall-goers gave him sideways glances and horrified looks; he paid no attention. These Seattlers had probably never seen anything quite like Maddy. He shook his stiff, styled hair in a brief motion, looking a lot like a lion after a sunbath. The snakebites embedded in his chin gleamed for a moment, reflecting in it the faces of curious spectators. He only smiled, picking up his pace as he weaved his way through the crowd. The tight cuff of his grey jeans strained against his ankles and the tongue of his massive Vans shoes with every dainty step he took. Maddy wasn’t sure where he was going, let alone where he wanted to go. The stores never offered much interest, considering he was broke about ninety-nine percent of the time. He hardly ever ate, so the food court was out of the question. And he had no roofies to get him trashed enough to party in the arcade. A conundrum of such sorts called for a less challenging appeal; hanging out.

Maddy was always so used to being at venues moshing, or at a rave blackening his lungs, that hanging out never seemed to suffice. It was so mellow, so not him. But what else was there to do? It was the middle of the day, and the clubs didn’t open until around six. Maddy pulled out his phone—appropriately a silver Sidekick—to check the time. 3:19 PM. So he had a couple hours to kill. Couldn’t be that hard to find something to do in that cathedral of a mall.

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