bad religion.

                                    

                                          
a.n.-  all parts of this chapter (except for lonny's) take place on december 8th. keep this in mind as you read.
                          
lonny.
                          
       i welcomed the new feeling of the crowd tossing nothing but good vibes my way. this audience was very diverse, but it seemed as if their universal purpose was to be there, listening to me. they went crazy when i did a few runs; some woman in the audience yelled, "boy, you betta sing!" it made me smile mid-performance.
                          
       when i'd finished with my two or three songs within the time alotted me, i stood up from behind the keyboard, waiting for the noise to die down so i could speak my thanks. they didn't allow it, so i just had to take control of the mic once more. "thank y'all, y'all are so... wow." i was grinning at them, and i felt the love surge from them to me. i slipped backstage, only to find cam looking panicked.
                          
"whoa, dude, you cool?" i asked him, breezily. 
                          
"nah, not really," he started, looking around. his eyes were wide open (which was unusual) and wild looking. "listen man, i need to tell you something."
                          
       "can we take it outside, after i put up my keyboard?" i'd made it a point to take my keyboard there to the show instead of using theirs. my korg triton was my most prized possession and had been there through everything with me.
                          
"don't matter."
                          
we bounded outside, and i noticed how low the temperature had dropped. for it to be december 7th, almost the 8th, it was getting pretty cold for nighttime nevada. "aight, out with it."
                          
"i found her."
                          
"hold on. excuse me, nigga, you said what?"
                          
"i. found. her."
                          
"say it twice so i know you meant it."
                          
"i. found. anise." he said as i stuffed my keyboard in the backseat. "i. found-"
                          
       "nigga, don't fuck with me!" i yelled, snatching him up by the collar. i was getting so caught up in the moment that i forgot that he had bodies on bodies under his belt, and no matter his body count, he was my friend.
                          
"yo, lonny, i don't know who the fuck you talking to," he reminded me, calmly. "you my nigga and all, but when it comes down to it, you lay a hand on me again, you getting shot. now put me down."
                          
i let him go. 
                          
       he continued. "she's alive." he unlocked his phone and showed me some blurry pictures of her that had to have been a little older than recent, because her hair looked the way it had when i had left her. in every picture, her face looked thinner and more gray, her eyes more full of despair each time. she was also getting thinner, i noticed. "but my nigga, i can't say that she's well..."
                          
"fuck you mean?"
                          
"she a junkie, man. well, one step up from one. she got a job and an apartment in the city, but that's about it."
                          
i put my head in my hands. "i left her, hoping she'd quit. i thought-"
                          
       "you thought wrong, nigga! damn, you so worried about your music or vibes or whatever the fuck you be thinking about that you forgot that you left her instead of helping her when she needed you! you always be talking about being selfless when you probably the most selfish nigga i know." the look on his face told me he was so done with my shit, just like anise would be, if she were here.
                          
but i pushed her away, so she's not.
                          
"but how do you know all this?" i asked, at last.
                          
"don't worry about it. i just know that she's out there, and she real close to becoming the neighborhood felicia."