Going Down in La-La Land by Andy Zeffer Read Free Book Online Page B

home at the end of the day to dance around to his Diana Ross CD collection.
    The night of the party I thought I’d be a little funky and have some fun. The East Village boy came out of me and I got inspired to smear my whole upper body, including my hair and tank top, with Jerome Russell gold body glitter.
    When I got to Sarah’s place she was more than taken aback at my glittery look.
    “ Check you out, sistahhh!”
    The guys she hung out with were very uniform. They dressed to conform, not stick out. But as the new guy in town I wanted to grab some attention and be a little different. I suppose in a way I was already beginning to rebel against the A-list. That was the bohemian misfit stuck inside me, the one I have trouble suppressing and that’s most likely responsible for my life becoming one twisted situation after another.
    The tank top I was given had the number 9 on it, my random number in the group that night. Stephen decided to print “Tank bottom” on the front, in reference to my occasional proclivity for wearing vintage 1970s’ tank tops with Bo Derek or Pink Panther transfers that were cut off at the bottom. I thought it was a stupid name, but he thought it was really funny, so I just humored him when he gave it to me at the gym earlier that week.
    “ Oh, how funny. That is so brilliant!” I lied, wishing he had come up with something a little more clever.
    Fred’s apartment was truly amazing, located on the corner of San Vicente and Fountain in a beautiful old Hollywood building, complete with high ceilings and a marble lobby. It looked like the kind of place a silent movie star would have lived.
    The rest of the crowd was there when Sarah and I arrived, and while my glitter drew a few compliments and quite a bit of comments, I could tell that more than a few in the clique were put off by my attempt to have fun with my look.
    Screw them, I thought, and gave myself a little tour of the apartment while they socialized in the other room. When I came back it was time to pass out the drugs. Earlier in the week at the gym Sarah had asked me if I wanted to front her money for some X. Her friend Ryan, a cute graduate student, was getting some great stuff from this dealer he knew.
    Ryan was one of those people who liked to act like they never met you before and didn’t remember who you were, when in fact they had seen you enough times that they had to. I never knew what motivated people to do this, outright cruelty or the need to feel self-important. It was probably both.
    I seldom did recreational drugs but I figured in order to loosen up and have a good time with this group I would have too. So I agreed and gave her the money that day.
    Sarah passed me my X. It was like sorting out treats on Halloween night, as people passed shit around and swallowed.
    “ Can I get some ginger ale to mix this G with?” someone asked to no one in particular.
    I had no idea what half the stuff was. I put mine in my pocket, figuring I had a hard enough time driving to begin with. And as I had never been to this place before, I’d better have it together on the drive over.
    Before leaving, we all posed for a group photo in our matching tank tops, and then it was off to The Palace.
    There was already a long line by the time we arrived. On our way to the back I received a few appreciative comments, the name “glitter boy” being bestowed upon me more than once. One of Sarah’s friends managed to work his way to the front and beckoned with his finger for the rest of us to follow, leaving all the other poor suckers that had been waiting for minutes in the dust.
    Once inside I heard the music pumping and saw the floor filling up fast.
    “ Should I take my X now?” I asked Sarah.
    “ Of course! You mean you haven’t taken it yet?” she exclaimed, giving me an amazed look. “Let’s go get you some water.”
    After getting water and swallowing my little pill, we met up with the rest of the A-list, who had formed a little