Fifteenth Riff [Voice;]
[Amidst the talking, there is the sound of rustling. Emille is currently going through her new bounty of clothes that she has finally been able to purchase, and doesn't realize she's speaking over the Network.]
I've wanted to sleep with half the girls I met here. Probably more. Knowin' me, I don't doubt any o' that one damn bit. Not like it's surprisin'; most o' the people here are damn good lookin'. Not fair. Not fair one goddamn bit. I need... Need some kinda outlet. Haven't fucked nothin' in-- how long's it been? -- four an' a half months. Well 'fore I came to this City.
'Least it's been good f'r my music. I've actually been writin' again; my god. Twen'y songs since I got here. Some of 'em are real junk, but some of 'em're actually turnin' out okay. Jus' need t'work on 'em.
I actually did kill 'im. Didn' really sink in when I saw the blood on my hands, but... He's actually dead. He... He wasn't a bad guy, necessarily. He jus' slept with my best friend on graduation night. No big... That asshole. No one wants t'walk in on 'at. I coulda handled if someone told me they'd done it. Like, "Oh, hey, Emille, I slept with your boyfriend, my bad." Nah. Not a word. Mid-thrust.
God... Like it matters anymore. He's dead, and I left. New York. Never did find the guy with the water powers. Still goin' with that stupid article bein' bogus. Woulda heard somethin' by then if there were others... 'Less they were as secretive as me. Which's crazy, 'cuz I wasn't exactly hidin'. I mean... Blowin' shit up in junkyards, playin' these loud gigs that degenerated int' huge bar brawls... Not t'mention I slept with, like, one outta every ten girls I met.
Which, by the way, Emille? You're a slut. Keeeeep remindin' yourself o' that. Try all ya want, ya ain't gonna live that down.
... Well, maybe that ain't true. Fresh start here, right?... Doesn't look like there's anyone I'd known back in Chicago or NY here. I could just... Start over. Try to... Settle down with someone. Start an actual relationship.
And wind up freakin' out, wakin' up in a cold sweat from the nightmares that inevitably happen from bein' with someone for longer 'an a day. I still hear his goddamn screams. Smell o' burned flesh... Never could get over that.
God. What the hell happened t'me since then? Well... Became a lot more cynical. Kinda a bitch t'some people. Stopped seein' guys altogether, thinkin' that woulda solved the problem o' the nightmares. Haven't had a relationship last more 'an three days. Learned the banjo. That was fun. Somehow, that manages to be an improvement over everythin' else.
... I do got some good friends here, though... Cat. Badou, who I haven't talked to... 'En there's Karolina and Kara, latter o' which's been just fuckin' awesome to me.
... Goddamn I'm lonely.
[The rustling stops... And suddenly, Emille realizes--]
... Oh, what the FUCK. How fuckin' long's this been on?!
I've wanted to sleep with half the girls I met here. Probably more. Knowin' me, I don't doubt any o' that one damn bit. Not like it's surprisin'; most o' the people here are damn good lookin'. Not fair. Not fair one goddamn bit. I need... Need some kinda outlet. Haven't fucked nothin' in-- how long's it been? -- four an' a half months. Well 'fore I came to this City.
'Least it's been good f'r my music. I've actually been writin' again; my god. Twen'y songs since I got here. Some of 'em are real junk, but some of 'em're actually turnin' out okay. Jus' need t'work on 'em.
I actually did kill 'im. Didn' really sink in when I saw the blood on my hands, but... He's actually dead. He... He wasn't a bad guy, necessarily. He jus' slept with my best friend on graduation night. No big... That asshole. No one wants t'walk in on 'at. I coulda handled if someone told me they'd done it. Like, "Oh, hey, Emille, I slept with your boyfriend, my bad." Nah. Not a word. Mid-thrust.
God... Like it matters anymore. He's dead, and I left. New York. Never did find the guy with the water powers. Still goin' with that stupid article bein' bogus. Woulda heard somethin' by then if there were others... 'Less they were as secretive as me. Which's crazy, 'cuz I wasn't exactly hidin'. I mean... Blowin' shit up in junkyards, playin' these loud gigs that degenerated int' huge bar brawls... Not t'mention I slept with, like, one outta every ten girls I met.
Which, by the way, Emille? You're a slut. Keeeeep remindin' yourself o' that. Try all ya want, ya ain't gonna live that down.
... Well, maybe that ain't true. Fresh start here, right?... Doesn't look like there's anyone I'd known back in Chicago or NY here. I could just... Start over. Try to... Settle down with someone. Start an actual relationship.
And wind up freakin' out, wakin' up in a cold sweat from the nightmares that inevitably happen from bein' with someone for longer 'an a day. I still hear his goddamn screams. Smell o' burned flesh... Never could get over that.
God. What the hell happened t'me since then? Well... Became a lot more cynical. Kinda a bitch t'some people. Stopped seein' guys altogether, thinkin' that woulda solved the problem o' the nightmares. Haven't had a relationship last more 'an three days. Learned the banjo. That was fun. Somehow, that manages to be an improvement over everythin' else.
... I do got some good friends here, though... Cat. Badou, who I haven't talked to... 'En there's Karolina and Kara, latter o' which's been just fuckin' awesome to me.
... Goddamn I'm lonely.
[The rustling stops... And suddenly, Emille realizes--]
... Oh, what the FUCK. How fuckin' long's this been on?!