“Listen,’ she said, “Those guys are getting famous. Their ‘Love you tomorrow’ song is on the charts and their album is climbing to top on charts as well. They want us in. We are in. Enjoy the party. Have a good fucking time.”

At middle of night, it started raining.

“Let’s party as long as buzz and drugs don’t stop!’ Jacky screamed, smiling at him and pulling him closer and closer. She kissed him deeply on mouth, touching his groins.

She unzipped his fly and got on her knees in front of him, as respected club owner. They spent night together at the party then went to his house.

In morning, they had sex and smoked some pot.

Then he gave her a hundred dollar bill and sent her home in a cab.

She sang softly with low tone:

“Have my little time for me,

Going home without foe,

Any reason for companionship

And friendship,

When competition is merely an excuse,

In that white system,

In our celebrity-obsessed culture,

What I’m supposed to do with all my babies,

Take care of every guy’s beef?”

When she got home, she took a long, hot shower, trying only not to think about anything else but pleasure. Bitterness went away from her mind. It was all part of living in fast line, no time to think, no time to focus, without real one to lay her head on his chest. With hang over, high as hell and sore, she suddenly felt like a whore.

She got high again.

Same day she landed in hospital, dying in pain and misery.

She could remember all those beautiful moments with her dead of overdose girlfriend, Donna. She was female Rock singer.

“I have everything I ever wanted to have. I have money. I have drugs. I have any car I want. I have any woman or man I want. But I don’t know if I have at least one real friend.” She would say in her magic voice. And those words stayed in her mind until her candle burned out.

Picture Property by permission: www.monikajakisic.co.uk

Curated & Written by

Mark Spiewak, PEARLCOPPER

pascalradio@yahoo.com

www.fun.to/cyberdrive