There was a group of boys, in the middle of all the crowd and bustle, they were also huddled together. All in all their hair and dress seem to indicate that they appreciated both the modern and the classic equally. Their clothes fit properly and were well made, but also worn in places. Dexter remembered to check their footwear, as that was the quickest way to learn everything about a person. One boy wore a sort of dyed leather boot which the boy would later learn were called martens. Dexter knew that the marten was a cousin to the weasel, but many shoes were named after random animals for no particular reason. The second boy wore Adidas soccer sneakers which were called samba, Dexter knew that a samba was a kind of parade dance and also a type of drum machine beat. The third boy wore leather saddleback shoes – bowling shoes, actually, with numbers on the back, he was the only one dressed in dress pants and a suit jacket too. Dexter did not appreciate the irony the boy expressed through his outfit, nor the fact that he was obviously the wealthiest of the boys.
Still, Dexter wanted to give this group a chance over any other so he ambled over and stood just outside their circle. The boy wearing Samba's held a slim device in his hand, it was temporarily embedded – socketed into a larger device which acted as a large speaker. He was playing a song for his friends, kind of nodding his head.
“HE NEVER SLEEPS AND HE NEVER FUCKS AND HE NEVER FALLS 'CAUSE HE'S GOT BAD LUCK, YEAH !” - screamed the petulant young man years ago in some recording studio. Dexter knew that 'the devil never rests' was a saying, an interesting saying. Dexter wondered if the lyrics were suggesting that the devil had bad luck, an interesting and poetic notion. But the screaming man on the song was grating his nerves and he decided that the lyrics were actually gibberish in the end.
“what IS that?” Demanded Dexter to the group of three.
“this is a band from the 90's called 'Nirvana',” said the boy with the slim device who was playing the song after he had turned toward Dexter solicitously.
“That guy is annoying and that songs sucks, it's stupid,” said Dexter and by the time he was done he was pointing at the boys slim device.
The boy with the Samba's and the slim device looked perplexed. Then his two companions burst into chuckling laughs. Dexter turned red in the face, thinking their laughter was intended to ridicule him.
“I don't think anyone is enjoying your music appreciation class this morning, Roth,” said the boy in the dyed leather martens and then he raised a large paper sippy-cup to his lips and took a pull from whatever liquid was inside.
“No? Hmmm, here, well, try this, this is Nirvana too, but acoustic just before their lead vocal was murdered.” said the boy and he tapped the luminescent and reflective screen of his device it immediately responded by playing the song he wished.
It was titled “the man who sold the world” and it transported Dexter to visions, daydreams, stories he imagined himself writing, musings on the life of a boy as he experienced life. The song concluded and no other song followed it.
“That is a better one, I think, probably the justification for their existence,” said the boy with the sambas who had been DJ'ing for his friends. “But then... I will do whatever it takes to get you chumps to listen to something other than dubstep.”
“Skrillex is win, mouse is win,” Martens said
“Yeah, Yeah,” replied the music appreciation boy.
“say it!” demanded the Martens in mock-rage
“yeah, yeah, win-win,” the sambas admitted
“anyway, that second one was better, somber, but pretty good. And I shouldn't have snapped at you before...” Dexter saw now the errors in his approach, in his attitude. He saw that these guys were older, had a maturity and a zen-like attitude that he had never developed.
“somber? I want to go beat myself to death with a lead fucking crowbar after hearing that,” said the martens after another thirsty sip.
“music is supposed to cause a reaction,” explained Samba's, “otherwise, what good is it? Besides, we are your hosts and you are our guest here until you get used to everything,” then he introduced them all.
Samba's was Roth, although other people called him Mike, so Dexter didnt know what to think. Some people have many names. Roth had a job of some sort and his own money.
Maten's was Damian Trefoil he was barely middle class as far as money but was somehow held great influence with the local police and church. He could manage a great deal as far as information and favors.
Bowling shoes was named Bucky who had yet to say anything, Bucky was rich, but his wealth was held in place by a shoe string and a single day of bad business could find him poorer than any of them.
''Bucky' nice fucking name for a rich brat,' thought Dexter, then he remembered how he had already snapped at the boys once, and decided he better give Bucky a chance. The others seemed to like him well enough.
Dexter was glad to have made friends so quickly on the morning of his first day at the Moloch City school. |