In the year 2002, four twenty-something-year-olds attempt to navigate their surroundings in New York City while getting drawn into a culture of drugs, glamor, and violence.
At the same time, an old bookstore clerk struggles to overcome grief, until...
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Coney Island, New York
October 31st, 2002
8:30 p.m.
"Sometimes it's better to light a flamethrower than to curse the darkness."
- Terry Pratchett
Adrenaline is sweet music to Leah as she and her friends visit an amusement park in New York. Retro lights and fast rides. Kids laugh, while their worried families sprint after them.
Hurling his shrunken cigarette in the wastebasket, Holden trudges around the trash littering on the boardwalk. Ferocious seagulls manage to consume half-eaten food until they are shooed away by random strangers.
"Jesus," Holden moans in a revolted tone. "Do these shitholes ever hear of a garbage can?"
"Holden, the amusement park is full of snot-nosed brats," said Leah. "Do you honestly think they care about recycling?"
Hazel brown eyes scope across the stunning rides as Holden searches for the parking lot. His freezing hands rest inside the pockets of his denim jacket.
Underneath it is his dark red flannel and a soft gray t-shirt with a Nirvana logo on it. His thick jeans and black combat boots help keep the cold wind from freezing his legs. Hanging over his shoulders is his black bag adorned with pins ranging from a red Anarchy symbol to diverse grunge bands.
Leah, on the other hand, dresses like she is going to a rock concert. Her brown hair is swept to the side, revealing multicolored highlights. Black polish vanishes with her chewed fingernails as Leah picks her teeth for any popcorn kernels.
The cold breeze stimulates her green army jacket, black Ramones t-shirt, and denim shorts. As the moist dirt soils her favorite Doc Martens, Leah scratches her nose piercing and asks Holden if he wants to play one of the carnival games.
"No, thank you," said Holden. "I like walking around."
They travel across the boardwalk as tourists and kids waltz past them. Some were held onto their cooked food and prizes, while others count the line of tickets they earned from the arcade.
Smoothing his eyebrow piercing, Holden looks up at the cloudless sky and wonders when the stars are going to come out. Ever since he was a little kid, Holden used to lie on his front lawn and study the constellations with his grandparents. But now that he's turning twenty-two this month, Holden is focused on other things-like paying rent and attending night classes.
Once they reach the booths, Holden's pager buzzes loudly inside his pocket. Leah stops walking. Her questionable eyes teach him how to read the message to himself.
"Aw," he groaned. "Does she ever take a vacation?"
Leah crosses her arms. "What's up?"
Dropping his pager inside his left pocket, Holden ran his fingers through his messy brown hair.
