DWELLING The Novel - Chapter TWENTY-FOUR: Loosen Things Up a Little

in #story6 years ago (edited)

Drugs on the job. That’s what we’re in for today. Thanks for all of your amazing support on the first 23 chapters! If you missed any, here’s where it begins... CHAPTER 01 You’ll also find a table of contents below. And now without further ado here’s...


CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
Loosen Things Up a Little

A small set stood in the center of the large white cyclorama of Studio D, Fast Ashley's largest at thirty two hundred square feet. Three breakaway walls created a faux bathroom stall littered with graffiti, a prop toilet planted in the center. Inside the set walls, two rail-thin teenage models shared the lap of their tattooed male counterpart.

Mioko snapped photographs with a pricey Hasselblad, surrounded by Jake's poached first and second assistants, in a surreal reconstruction of a candid true life moment that seemed now to belong to someone else's autobiography. A sterile facsimile of the bathroom at Mars Bar; the debauched booze-hole and junkie hideout that for years had anchored the island's numbered street grid at the corner of First and First. A neighborhood institution, the motto "babysitting for drunks," had been proudly painted beside the door till a young graffiti artist tried to tag his handle over the slogan and got both his ankles curbed for his efforts by a couple of lit up regulars. Where, beginning at 22, Mioko had come of age tending bar and shooting smack for five formative years.

Her youth evaporating at a dive equally venerated and abhorred, but which no longer even existed, having been long since bulldozed by the unstoppable force of Downtown Manhattan gentrification. Not to mention her original subjects. At least one of the authentic members of the commode tryst, they were now spending tens of thousands of dollars recreating, the only one whose whereabouts Mioko had any certainty of had OD'ed on her twenty third birthday on the second floor of a Clinton Street flop house, that was now a luxury flat above a gourmet brunch destination. It all seemed somehow sacrilegious to dig into the territory of her own artistic work, her dreamscapes, and in this particular case, her lingering nightmares, to sell overpriced jeans to the world's über-entitled youth.

Mioko tried her best to table the irony that her "big break" was now forcing her to desecrate her own past. Instead she pushed herself to just keep clicking away at the Hasselblad's shutter that in turn triggered the strobes--which thankfully from her close proximity emitted such a blinding burst that they more or less obliterated any room for deep introspection.

But despite her best efforts to just keep trudging forward and get through the day, she was becoming increasingly aware that the infamous and visionary Romen Gold was starting to look dissatisfied. Sneering at the monitor with his underlings, a black cloud was gathering above the art director and the rest of the agency conclave.

"This is too slick." Romen yelled from thirty feet away, "We want more raw, Mioko. That's why you're here. More energy! I wanna smell the sweat. Let's do this already."

Mioko put down the camera and looked over at the agency folks. No help there. So she turned to her client in earnest, "Romen, just tell me exactly what you want. And I'll do it."

Romen glided over to Mioko, grabbing her by the arm and yanking her away from the set.

"I'm sure I can give you what you're looking for--"

"Come with me a second," Romen interrupted.

She quickly found herself in the studio's real commode pressed up against the wall to avoid contact with her client, who was now pouring out a long line of white powder from a vial onto the tank of the porcelain toilet.

"We just need to loosen things up a bit."

Romen started mincing up the powder with an AMEX Black Card and cutting it into fat lines. Mioko was visibly shaken, but Romen ignored her misgivings and snorted back a line, then smiled at her seductively, handing her a rolled bill.

"Pour vous," he said sweetly, but it was clear he was getting impatient. "Come on, Honey. I've seen your work. Don't play Suzy Strait-lace with me."

Coke had never been her drug of choice. She’d had a hard time telling the difference between a couple of lines and a double shot of espresso. Still, it had been such a long time since she'd ingested anything stronger than ibuprofen, her heart started throbbing out of rhythm. She could feel the palms of her hands getting sticky, and an unreasonably strong urge to urinate was starting to get the better of her. So it was quickly coming down to either nostriling a line, or pissing herself in front of Romen, which she assumed was a rather major client relations no-no. Mioko scrunched her eyes closed for a quick moment, before leaning over and inhaling a noseful.

"Nothing like a line of ecstacy in the morning to clear out the creative cobwebs."

"What?" Mioko croaked as she craned back towards him. "I thought it was coke."

"Coke? Blecch, no thanks."

Mioko's world was already starting to look muddled. With a huge smile, Romen grabbed Mioko's neck, she recoiled in disgust as he leaned in and kisses her full on the lips. Her lips tingled peculiarly, but the entire rest of her body shivered with repulsion.

"Let's get back in there and sell some fucking clothes, shall we?"


Mioko leaned into the stall, sweaty and euphoric, whispering seductively to the models as they kissed for her camera.

"...that's it... but open your mouths more..." she heard herself saying.

Romen, was now in a far brighter mood, standing a little too close to his team around the monitors. His hand was draped over a lowly student intern from the agency phalanx, her freckled face unsure how to reckon with the uninvited attention.

"Yes! Just like that."

Mioko turned back to her first assistant, her eyes hazy with narcotic.

"Give me a little more fill."

The assistant watched Mioko’s strange demeanor closely as he reached for the light.


"Sure," he said as he started to adjust the strobe, but was startled when she pulled her trigger, popping the lamp right in his eyes.

Blinded, he looked back at Mioko who continued to click away, inches from the models' faces. The first assistant's vision was still burnt out in the middle, but he thought he saw the male model reaching out and touching Mioko's thigh. And when his vision finally did clear, he was astonished to find that it wasn't just a hallucination. Then he saw Mioko look down at the hand, nestled next to her crotch, but to his great surprise, for a girl who froze up when you tried to give her a platonic hug, she made no effort to move the hand away.

Mioko walked down the lively Rivington sidewalk.

A Fujianese teenager held a lighter to the fuse of an Outer Space Jet firework, while his two little friends, perhaps younger brothers, watched in nervous anticipation. The fuse started to sparkle and the teenager tossed the incendiary package underneath a nearby SUV. The firework slammed wildly between the pavement and the vehicle's undercarriage. The tourist family inside scurried like confused rats, shrieking in fright as their car exploded with a metallic cacophony. The teenagers laughed hysterically at their tourist prey. Mioko watched in baffled wonder.

Peeling her eyes away, she crosses towards Machine City Bar. On a night when it was this packed, Mioko would typically have avoided the bar like a plague, but in the lingering remains of her altered state, she couldn't think of a place she'd rather be. Pushing open the door, Nouvelle Vague's "Too Drunk to Fuck" blared from the bar's speakers. Mioko navigated through the packed crowd.

Making out with a ninety-five pound waif at the bar, Dorian immediately noticed Mioko. Pulling his lips away, the waif's head swirled downwards in free-fall.

"Hey! Mioko."

Mioko heard the voice, but looked confused.

"What's up?" Dorian said in a friendly tone.

Mioko stopped. The drunken waif was instantly jealous, giving her suitor an indignant look of "who's this and why do we care?"

Dorian quietly shushed the waif, the way you'd pacify a colicky child. His keen eyes were on Mioko.

"Did you think about my offer?"

Mioko looked at him groggily. What had he offered her? Money for drugs was all she could summon.

"Offer?" she said dreamily, but then the strange request came back to her, "Oh, right. To paint me?"

Played out, the waif put her head down on the table. The DJ cranked some obscure post-punk new wave at an unreasonably loud volume.

"It'll just take an afternoon," she thought she heard him say. He was slurring a little, and Mioko had to lean in to hear him over the booze-fueled dissonance. She made out the words: painless... some tunes... polite conversation... And finally a whole sentence: you just have to sit still for a little while. Mioko contemplated the idea. She didn't entirely trust Dorian, but then again, she didn't really trust anybody. It might be nice to see herself hanging on the wall of a gallery someday. She seemed to recall that he'd been kind of a big deal at some point, or at least on the verge. Not that she really gave a shit about any of that. Or did she just pretend not to?

"You know what?" she said. "Sure."

Perhaps because he was on his seventh Stoli and soda, or maybe just because he was always a little inelegant when things went his way, Dorian's face lit up in a strange grimace, which Mioko took to mean he was excited.

"Amazing. Fantastic. Wait, for real?"

"I think so."

The song was thankfully reaching its sputtering extro, and now the sound of the waif moaning softly on the surface of the bar became audible.

Mioko pointed to her, "Your friend."

But Dorian couldn't take his eyes off Mioko.

"She's fine."

Mioko was past caring, "Alright. I'll catch you later."

"Indeed."

Mioko made her way towards the bar, pleased to catch sight of a familiar face. Darlene looked pleased to see her too, "Hey ya! How you doing?"

"Good, actually."

And she was. For the first time in a while.

"That's great!" Darlene yelled over the thumping bass.

"I got a gig. A shoot of my own. For a big client."

"Holy shit. Who?"

"Lamerica."

Darlene curled her bottom lip, impressed.

"I know," Mioko said.

"I'd offer to buy you a drink, but--" Darlene smiled self-consciously. "You want a seltzer?"

Mioko looked at the tightly packed rows of bottles behind Darlene.

"You know what, fuck it. Pour me a Jameson's."

"Really?"

"Why not. I was a junkie, not an alcoholic. Besides," Mioko shouted, "it'll take the edge off the ecstasy!"

Darlene laughed, and Mioko knew it might be best to just let it be a joke. The last thing she needed was word getting back to Trey that she was rolling --who since they’d broken up had risen to a strict AA convert and petty weed kingpin/bar manager at the same time. Besides it wasn't the Nineties. The chances of more ecstasy hits finding their way into her stratosphere seemed slim at best.

"Umm... OK, then." Darlene said hesitantly as she reached behind her and doused a glass with a stiff brown pour. Mioko grabbed up the drink and took a hearty swig.
"Yeah, I kind of poached the client from my boss, Jake. But, the hell with it, right?"

Darlene nodded, awkward but trying to stay enthused. Other customers started to compete for Darlene's attention. Mioko got distracted by the gaze of a tall stranger jamming up to the bar beside her, but she was snapped back to reality by Darlene's words, "Trey said he'd be back in a bit, but I'm not sure when, or even if that's actually gonna happen tonight."
Mioko downed the rest of the whiskey and looked around at the semi-familiar faces, ready for another.

"I'll tell him to call you if you don't wanna stand round here with all these douches rubbing up against you."

Mioko wiped the booze from her lips.

"OK."

But Mioko didn't move. She just stood there mashed up against the bar stools, melting into the warm bodies all around her. Her mind was traveling elsewhere. And then she saw in the window, her stalker’s beedy eyes filled with malice. Her chest stopped moving, but then Rube was gone.


Dwelling chapter Illustrations by the wonderful @opheliafu.

If you missed the first three chapters of Dwelling the Novel, here is the table of contents:

CHAPTER 01CHAPTER 13NEXT - CHAPTER 25
CHAPTER 02CHAPTER 14
CHAPTER 03CHAPTER 15
CHAPTER 04CHAPTER 16
CHAPTER 05CHAPTER 17
CHAPTER 06CHAPTER 18
CHAPTER 07CHAPTER 19
CHAPTER 08CHAPTER 20
CHAPTER 09CHAPTER 21
CHAPTER 10CHAPTER 22
CHAPTER 11CHAPTER 23
CHAPTER 12CHAPTER 24

BEHIND THE KEYBOARD

My friendFrancesca Romeo took some incredible pictures on the lower east side that I found hugely inspirational as I wrote Dwelling. Here are a few to give you an idea:

Francesca is an incredible photographer and a very cool person. And her art changed my life. Thanks for that.

Yours In The Chain,
Doug Karr


SPECIAL THANKS to my wife @zenmommas for years of support during the writing process, @ericvancewalton for his trailblazing, inspired collaboration and incredible guidance, @andrarchy for his mind blowing insight and friendship, @bakerchristopher for being an inspiration as a human artist and bro, @complexring for his brilliance and enthusiasm, Masie Cochran, Taylor Rankin and @elenamoore for their skillful help in editing the manuscript, and to @opheliafu for the fantastic illustrations she created exclusively for the novel's launch on Steemit and to Elena Megalos for her wonderful character illustrations. I’d also like to thank Eddie Boyce, Jamie Proctor, Katie Mustard, Alan Cumming, Danai Gurira, Stephan Nowecki, Ron Simons, Dave Scott, Alden Karr, Missy Chimovitz, my dad Andy Karr and late mother Wendy, and everyone else who helped lead me to this moment.

DWELLING BLOCKCHAIN COPYRIGHT © DOUG KARR, 2018


I am a Brooklyn based writer, film & commercial director, and crypto-enthusiast, my projects include @HardFork-series an upcoming narrative crypto-noir and my novel Dwelling will soon be premiering exclusively on Steemit, and you can check out more of my work at dougkarr.com, piefacepictures.com, and www.imdb.com/name/nm1512347

Please comment thoughtfully, up-vote and resteem and I'll gladly upvote your comments!


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10% of all profits from Dwelling will be donated to Amnesty International.

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I appreciate the regular scheduled releases of chapters, a way to wake up for the week haha

The tone and scenes are pretty gritty with so much drug usage and backroom drama, and the pressure that comes from the attention of pretty seedy people, it must be so easy to just say eff it and stop caring about possible consequences

I still miss the story, right now I'm still reading chapter 15, and it's very interesting to read the next story, but I have to spend this first.
your work is great @dougkarr

Thanks @milend! Glad you're digging it!

Hey, @dougkarr your work is wonderful, and you are amazing writer..
thanks for share this.

I read it in one breath. I said earlier that with each main story it becomes more interesting and now I am convinced of my words. The story really becomes more interesting. It will be interesting to see a separate book for this story.

@dougkarr, You wrote all chapters very speedy. Great recovery of Dwelling. I read now after 13 hours delay coz yesterday I were suffer from my headache. Now very interesting to saw Dwelling chapter no TWENTY-FOUR. I appreciate all your effort to improve steem blockchain via your amazing writing.

i like you man,i support you man for your activity.

Love to read it.

I always respect your ideas about this platform....

life is not bad of rose,,be patient.

You got a 2.02% upvote from @postpromoter courtesy of @dougkarr!

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