Doozies in the City
Tyler slid into the backseat, his lanky frame curling into the space like he owned it. He didn’t bother with a seatbelt, he just slouched back with a cheeky smirk.
“Alright, where are we headed?” His voice was sharp and unapologetically confident. The way he spoke was what you’d expect from a rock band frontman who knew he was always the center of attention.
“You know, I was just thinking about New York, baby. It’s the city that never sleeps, but you know what? It’s actually the city that makes you regret every bad decision you ever made. And trust me, I’ve made some doozies.” he ranted on. “Do you plan on making doozies, little thing?“ He suddenly sat up and leaned in to ask me.
I shook my head, not entirely sure what he meant by doozies. But I guessed it wasn't entirely a positive thing.
Abigail shot him a sideways look. She was clearly not amused yet she didn’t bother making any comments. I glanced over at her, trying to decipher if she was secretly regretting this trip. Once again I failed to tell from her demeanor.
Or perhaps my mind was too preoccupied with the noise constantly rushing out of Tyler's mouth. He had shifted his attention to Abel, going on about a band he's mentoring and their “next big hit”. He would use them to buy another yacht by next summer and sneak into Hollywood again.
Again? For the first time in a while, I didn't want to ask questions. He was relentless with the constant stream of banter.
“I swear, this city is full of people who think they know what they’re doing, but it’s all just noise. Noise and overpriced coffee,” Tyler continued, running his leather-gloved hand through his hair in quite the performative way. As though he expected someone to be watching. “You know what I’m saying? Do you know what I mean?” his eyes met mine through the rear view mirror.
“I just got here, so not really.,” I replied, glancing nervously at Abigail, hesitant whether to laugh or be alarmed. She, however, simply tapped her fingers on the steering wheel. I simply guessed she had grown too used to Tyler’s incessant chatter to care.
We cruised through the streets of New York and I found comfort in staring out the window for the sights. Tyler was right, it was noisy but luckily for me whatever happened when I arrived didn't repeat itself.
Abel sat still in the backseat while being busy on his phone. Tyler on the other hand wouldn't stop leaning forward between the two front seats, like an overexcited puppy let loose in a park.
“And I've just been thinking, I could just open a rock house myself. It will be called Crash Out Core or something better than that. What do you think?” he tilted his head toward Abigail.
Abigail shot him a side-eye. “You’re the last person who needs to handle a rock house, whatever that is. You can barely remember your name after a night out.”
“True,” Tyler affirmed as his face fell. He finally leaned back into his seat. “But it’s all about the persona, babe. The persona. You wouldn’t get it.” he peeked right back up.
It was hard to resist laughing, unfortunately, it was one of those awkward, nervous laughs that I regretted immediately. Still, Tyler’s personality was like a magnet, the pull is sometimes impossible to ignore. He made no sense, yet somehow, I couldn’t stop listening. He wasn’t so bad afterall.
We parked at a spot near what Tyler called a shopping district in one of his rambles. It was then I fully let myself get anxious about spending so much money I didn't participate in earning in any way possible.
I exhaled slowly, gently rubbing my fingers together. I felt like a spotlight was suddenly on me the minute I stepped out of the car yet no one was looking. I just had the irrational fear settled that New York’s busy streets would not be forgiving. If I wasn’t careful, I’d make a laughable spectacle of myself.
“Relax little thing, it looks like you're about to combust. It's just shopping, isn't this meant to be an exhilarating experience for you?“ Tyler stepped right in front of me as he spoke.
I simply shrugged. I wouldn't expect him to understand. He seemed like the last person who would understand.
Tyler didn’t care at all about my lack of response as he trotted forward and had begun scouring the place.
“Walk two feet next to me, don't make eye contact with anyone till we get to the stores,” Abigail instructed, pulling out a box from the inside of her cropped jacket.
“Noted,” I stepped in line with her. Abel joined us from behind and Tyler, he had suddenly decided that everyone in the vicinity was his best friend.
“Hey, you! Nice jacket! Is that new? Come on, tell me where you got it,” he called out to a random man in a red coat walking past.
The guy just smiled at him, probably questioning his sanity, but Tyler was persistent. “No, seriously, I need to know. My wardrobe’s been in a rut lately.”
Abigail let out an exasperated sigh. “Ignore him as much as you can,” she muttered to me. “It’s just one of his personalities making a rough debut.”
“Hey!” Tyler called out, feigning offense. “I don’t have a personality disorder. It's a lifestyle.”
I looked down and away,my face red with secondhand embarrassment. But I was curious. He had a personality disorder? Could that be related to his shapeshifting?
“Personalities?” I whispered to Abigail. She pressed her lips with a slight frown, clearly done trying to make sense of it all to try to explain.
“We’re stuck with whoever this is for now,” she said. “Just roll with it.”
And so, I did. Or tried to.
We walked through the shopping district, looking left and right through open glass windows and well-curated displays. However, My head was spinning in the middle.