This story was adapted from a chat play between myself and an anonymous partner.
We've made arrangements by email to do this. I slip backstage as I know most of the staff at the Funky Underground by name. It's a second home for me and the soundman doesn't bat an eye as I pass him and head down the dingy hallway. Peeking in the room I see my interview and step inside.
"Hey," I say, my dark eyes wide and shining, chol rimmed in Egyptian style and shadowed in violet. My skin is light brown and my hair is black, undercut and pulled back, a small bundle of dreads trailing. I'm 5-ft-3 but a bit taller with my platform strap boots. I'm wearing a cotton mini dress, black, off the shoulders and clingy to my small chest and wider hips. My nose is pointy and has a silver hoop in the left lobe. A matching hoop is in my brow. Silver daggers hang from my ears on tiny chains with multiple studs above. I have my favorite skull embossed bangles on my wrists and my faded tattered jean jacket currently pushed off of one shoulder. My legs are bare from the short hem of the dress to the tops of my boots and most of the sorceress inked onto my thigh is visible. "I'm Jaz," I greet him, raising my bottle of Stella. "Great show guys! I'm here for the interview."
"Fuuuckk," he moans out loud as he runs a hand through his sweaty blonde curls. Christian is sprawled back on the old dingy sofa in a black Nike tee and long shorts and has stud through his septum. The other two members of the trio, Dave and Andy, are milling about with a couple of other local girls and don't seem to pay us much mind. Christian tugs the sweaty t-shirt upwards showing off the pale flesh of his trim abs. "Hey Jaz, we have an after party if you just wanna do a quick one here?" he calls to me. "Or follow us through the night? It's up to you," he offers as he leans forward to shake my hand. Then he grabs a water bottle.
"Yeah, party at Sly's," I confirm. "At least until Sly's neighbors call the cops." I take another sip of my beer, adding to my high. I did a bunch of E before the show and it probably shows in my eyes. "We can go there but we should go before it gets too full."
"Damn, how did you know?" he asks somewhat surprised. "Yeah, I mean I understand that but he won't not let us in. We just headlined," he laughs. "This can be like your night with the hottest band in the world... give or take five years," he adds as he downs his water." I can only smirk at his remark, 'hottest band in the world'. That is some ego. "Let's just go in five minutes. We can start here and then go?"
"This is Seattle. This is my scene," I tell him. "I know everything. I know everyone here, including Sly. He's my homey," I wink. "Five minutes it is. I can finish this," I say as I take another swig. "Although I could sneak it out too, hah."
"Yeah, I mean I never even been out on the west coast until like five hours ago so yeah, I'll delegate to you," he says. He sounds a bit fucked up. It's rock and roll. "Just bring it, wait was it? We can split it if you don't wanna finish?"
"Fuck it," I say and toss my head back as I pour the rest of the beer down my throat. A dribble runs from the corner of my mouth at the end. I wipe it with my finger and laugh. "Haha, so ladylike, I know." Christian's eyes widen as he watches me chug. He seems impressed. Then I put the empty down, adding it to the haphazard collection on the end table.
"Wow remember how the grinch's heart grew?" he laughs. "Mine just did too."
"So, ready to meet Sly?" I ask.
"Sure Jaz, I'm ready to go," he says. He stands up, grabs another water and a beer, stuffing the beer in his back pocket. "Water's really my biggest vice besides beer and some dab pens," he says. "I'm always buying it. It's terrible for the environment but we can't drink the water where we live. You can write that down," tells me as he holds out his hand. We're getting friendly already.
"All right then," I say with a sparkle in my eye. I turn and lead him out by the hand, my shoulder nearly bumping the doorway as that last swig kinda hits my bloodstream. I make a left and head back up the hall the way that I came, brofisting with the soundman and waving to the bouncer Drake.
"Found one?" Drake asks with a wink.
"Goin' to Sly's," I tell him and head to the front door. We file out behind the exiting crowd and into the street and I give my jacket a flap letting the night air lick the perspiration from my skin. A car has to slow for us as we jaywalk to the other side and into Sly's building, the people before us holding the door open. It's an older building and the elevator is slow and full so we take the stairs to the third floor. From there we follow the sound and PGMG is playing on Sly's turntable as we walk in. There are already twenty or thirty people jammed in here. "Sly!" I say as I put my free arm around him. He's 6-ft-5 and has a huge fro.
"Sup Jaz?" he greets us as he hands both of us a Rainier and gives Christian a nod.
"Hey Sly. I'm Christian. I just headlined tonight, the drummer from Stuck in Japan. I think someone from the label invited us. I don't know. I was just told to come here. It's a nice place," says my interview as he reaches out to bump knuckles. I can see Christian's eyes checking out all the other girls.
"There no invites, just come brothah," Sly says in his easy tone. "I saw the show. Cheers," he says and clinks his bottle to Christian's.
"Cheers," I join in. Then Sly moves on as he greets more people at the door. Once he's gone, Christian turns to me.
"So Jaz, where do you want to do this interview?" he asks.
"Let's try the balcony," I say. "Probably the only place quiet enough." Then I lead him between the bodies across the room. The ceiling is lined with holiday lights in funky colors all glowing bright and dimming again. Stepping through the sliding glass door, we're on the little balcony. There are three people on the other end passing a joint. Down below we see the club across the street. I take out my phone/camera to get ready for the interview while Christian indulgently inhales the second-hand smoke. Someone from inside the room calls out to him and he shouts back.
"Should I just start and introduce myself or?" he asks me.
"I gotta frame up," I tell him. "You look great right there except that you're backlit. You're basically a shadow on the camera," I explain. "You'll have to stand against the wall under the lamp," I wave him over to the left. Then I move the lone patio table into position as it will end up as a tripod. Phone in my hands, I start recording with a shot of the club below. The video goes like this.
People are milling about on the sidewalk, smoking and criss-crossing the wide street between the sparse traffic. The music and voices of Sly's party behind me are humming in the background.
"Hey, this is HardCoreJaz with Christian Rheun from Stuck in Japan who just played a sweaty set at the Funky Underground. We're just across the street at Sly's," I begin. Then I pan the camera over to Tristan, standing dishevelled and smiling against the side wall of the patio and set it down carefully on the table, it's case folding into a prop-up. The picture is a bit jiggly as I do this. "Is that how you pronounce it? Rune?" I ask him. He has a pensive look.
"Um, it's Run," he corrects me with a wink and runs his fingers through his thick blonde tangles. Suddenly Mr Rock Star seems a bit camera shy. "Do I look good?" he asks, his eyes looking above the frame to me behind the table, then follow me around to his side.
"Don't be shy," I tease him as I join him in the frame now that my hands are free. I lean back against the wall and rub my shoulder into his arm rather playfully as I clink bottles with him. Silver titles with a black shade appear beneath across the bottom of the screen: "
CHRISTIAN RHEUN - Stuck in Japan / HardCoreJaz
". Then I look into the camera. "So if you've never heard of these guys you've basically been on a desert island for the past six months. Either that or you just aint cool," I explain. "Christian is the drummer
and
