Taking on my life, pop culture and the written word bare knuckled......with a soundtrack.
Sunday, November 7, 2010
Lark's fierce, deep, dark blue eyes never left the screen of her Iphone as she boarded the Gulfstream. Even people in the entertainment business used to be able to disappear, then youtube came along. Twenty year old memories, played before Lark as she watched videos of the defunct hair metal rock band Hellandback. Then she opened another screen. It was a file called Malibu. Usually people forget their past, Lark memorized and computerized every dramatic detail. In one part of the file, she watched a video made by the channel now known as E! as they interviewed the members of Hellandback at the American Music Awards in January 1991. Six months before the incident on the California shore that changed her life, Dean Hellenbachs, and a dozen others, Lark was representing the fledgling rock band for Gotham records. There she was, 23 years old, full of idealistic ambition, the polar opposite of the ice cold, nihilistic drive that consumed her on a daily basis. She cringed at the teased hair, push up bra and bright red lipstick then saw what she needed to see, Dean Hellenbach turning to his bandmates and mouthing the words "this all sucks". Dean knew. The deal made in a some sweaty New York club months before with the man in the black suit was a front for his soul, and Lark had made the same deal. She just didn't have the same conscience. "Beating" Dean Hellenbach was impossible. He had made his deal with the Devil, reneged and lived to tell about it. Lark opened another screen, titled girlfriend. She glanced over the biography of an innocent looking blond who died at age 20, just a few days after her birthday, of an apparent drug overdose. Lark knew it was a lie. She wasn't there but she knew the blond was doomed. The man in the black suit killed her, somehow, because he wouldn't kill Dean. Lark had to figure out some way to use it all to distract Dean Hellenbach from influencing Silas Bane. She picked up the jet's phone and made an 11 dollar phone call that would ensure millions. "Inkwell, yes we're open, yes, we're busy, and yes, you need an appointment to get tattooed. T-shirts are 10 percent off during on the weekdays. What else do you need to know?" Lark rolled her eyes and made her move, "Mallory Powell, this is Lark McKissic. I know you can't talk so if Silas bane is inside that shop, say "tomorrow noon sounds good, and write in the appointment book, Penelope for the whole hour". Mallory, for a rare moment in ehr life was speechless She responded in kind. Lark finished the call by saying "Don't worry Mallory, I have no use for your angst. Dean will never know about our relationship. Tell your mom I said hello and I hope she stays clean." Lark hung up the phone. She closed her eyes and tried to nap the rest of the flight.
The Hill Of Sugar, suburban Atlanta, Georgia, United States
Hi, I'm Lance; in 1972, I was sent to prison by a military court for a crime I didn't commit. I promptly escaped from a maximum security stockade to the Los Angeles underground. Today, still wanted by the government, I survive as a soldier of fortune. If you have a problem, if no one else can help, and if you can find me then, maybe you can hire my blog can beat up your blog.