ciderisacrab

Cider is a ghost now.

He walks all night long with is hood up and his fly down.

He tries to get into the bar, but they turn him down 'cause he's got the wrong sneakers on.

 "Too cheap"

Cider:

  "I was told that I could get in with the right name..."

  "Yeah...so....what about it...?"

I know there's a big show at that bar tonight, and now you know it too. Cider's known for a while now and has been looking forward to it. That's why he got ghosted.

  "The name's the game" says the bouncer at the door, who is huge, tall, and big, with folder arms. His binder rings ares stuck together and Cider is looking for the latch to open them.

  "Open your heart to me, baby....I've got the lock and you've got the key!"

  "GET OUTTA HERE YOU FUCKIN' HORSESHOE CRAB!"

Cider gets slapped. KABOOM. He is on the pavement.

He gets up an hour later with rocks in his teeth.

His lip's so fat he can't feel it, but keeps chewing on it, 'cause for some reason he can't stop. His cell phone screen is cracked but the darn thing still works, so he calls up Bingo.

  "Hey man."

  "Hey........"

 ::click::

Cider lays back down. It's a little wet and gritty and sucks so bad, but he doesn't feel like moving.

Someone walks by...a couple people...they are laughing...at him.

Cider reaches into his pocket for his flask, but it seems to be missing.

What. A. Night.

Usually his smile is bigger than the stars. Tonight it is smaller than a microbial disease.

::blink blink blink::

  "Oh Ciderrrrrr...." a girl's voice is smooth. Is subtle. Is barely audible, but slips into a pocket of air and is just heavy enough to drift down onto his face and land.

He opens his eyes and sits up. Bingo's daughter, Trish, is leaning over him with her hair all done up and some sort of flashy chains dangled around her neck, dripping onto his chest.

pink cheeks red lips black eyes red lips red lips pink cheeks black eyes shiny eyes pearly teeth glowing hair glowing skin pink cheeks red lips red red red

  "Pa...trish...ah...?"

  "Ciderrrrrrr! What are you doing on the street like this!?"

Trish is with a bunch of friends. On the main road Cider can hear the crowd leaving the bar. He is in an alley near the back door.

  "Trish.....what're you doing out like this?"

  "...Oh Cider...ha ha ha...please don't tattle...I'll rip your throat out!"

  "Trish...I don't think your father would approve of you being out so late with these people in this dark alley...I don't think I approve of it..."

  "Ha ha ha, Ciiiidderrrrrrr...I don't think my father would approve of you making a pass at me like that!"

Cider drops his head back down and Trish stands up so that she's towering over him with the rest of her posse.

  "Making a pass at you...?! I'm just laying here on the ground.....you spoke to me!!!"

  "Ha ha ha, whatever Cider...think you can give us a ride? None of us has cash for a cab."

Cider doesn't answer so that he doesn't have to hear his lies echo in his brain, and so that he doesn't have to let all these losers in his car. Instead the streetlight is just buzzing loudly and there's probably a bunch of flies colliding head first with it.

  "Ciderrrrr....?"

  "I walked."

Trish uncrosses her arms and rolls her eyes like a bitch would. She starts walking away with her fancy-looking friends.

  "Ass-hole."

Cider thinks she's such a goof. He thinks also...

  "I've never been so attracted to a young girl before...bitch."

He rolls onto his side, gets up, and walks to his car parked a couple blocks away. As he rolls down the street he catches up to Trish and her friends standing outside of the convenience store. He honks at them and one of them spits real far and hits the rear passenger window. Cider opens the sunroof and the windows and takes a fast ride on a long road so that he can feel the wet, cool air. He feels, for the most part, very alive.