Pop Singers, Am I Right?

Chapter 22: Still Writing Songs, Am I Right?

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Dex POV

Maruca and I lie on my couch, both of us drunk and delusional with birds flapping around our heads. I don't have an addiction, but Maruca told me she had to get serious with me for a minute so she presumably brought out the whiskey and we got a bit wasted.

"Can I tell you a story, Ms. Dex?" She asks, tossing the bottle cap in her hands like a sad jester.

"Sure, Mr. Maruca." I reply, slurring my lines a bit but my head isn't too fuzzy. So not entirely wasted. Buzzed.

"There was once a girl named Acuram. When Acuram was a ittle-bittle girl, aka five years ago, she was a hopeless romantic."

"Ew."

"I know right?" She leaned against the couch for support as she sat up, "But for only one girl. Dawna Rolf."

"Cute."

"She left." She deadpans.

"Not cute."

"She was two years older than Acuram, and she had the prettiest little voice. It was so elegant and sweet, like poetry being read besides a pond while leaves fell by her side. And she was that kind of pretty where you fell head first, but when you got closer, she got even prettier. Which is unfair."

"Very."

"And what was even unfair was that she fell in love with Acuram too." She gazes up at the ceiling like it holds the answers to all of her problems. "They lived in that shady side of town where there were all kinds of gay kids so it wasn't an issue. But they had complications. Acuram couldn't leave the city, because she had a family to help raise. But Dawna, she wanted to see the world. She wanted to be famous. And Acuram was skeptical and didn't want to see Dawna get hurt, so she said some things she shouldn't have to try and get her to stay. Dawna leaves anyway."

"Can I guess who this is about?" I ask when she's finished speaking.

"Shoot." She finger guns.

"You're Acuram." I guess.

"Caught." She lazily throws up her hands in surrender.

"Who's Dawna?"

"Drisilia."

"No fucking way." I gasp, not missing a beat.

"Yes fucking way."

"Why didn't you tell me when she walked in?" I ask, slightly upset.

"Because I was having a fucking heart attack, dumb ass."

"Gay." I roll my eyes.

"Gayer." She shoots back. "I'm smart enough to not fall in love again, UNLIKE SOMEONE!"

"Will you shut the fuck up?" I suggest, "I don't want to have to shove you off the couch."

"Imagine if ya boy Fitz was here. What would you say?" Maruca asks.

"I'd say, 'Maruca, could you please leave?'"

"You'd say that whether he was here or not." She pouts. "Gimme a real answer."

"Uh, fuck it, okay." I clear my throat, "Hey Fitz, it's been awhile."

"Boo! BOO!"

"WHAT!"

Maruca shakes her head, "Howre you gonna win over that little fucker if you're talking to him like you already lost him."

"I already did."