CHAPTER TWO!!!(follows bk 1)

II
At ten in the evening, the outskirts of the capital spring to life. The neon lights seemed to get along better with the wet roads and the smell of cigarette smoke, car exhaust and alcohol was more accommodating than the smells that wafted through it by day. By this time, the noise was the comfort of every soul and the music that stood out could be produced only by the night’s gods. Or so they call the angst ridden, instrument sporting boys and girls who mostly slander bright and boring futures to create music perfect to their ears, to make a big, long lasting stand that was instant and influential, whose goal was to be remembered like gods for tonight, even if tomorrow they were forgotten. What makes the night scene so alive was the passion that comes alive only at night, when only rejection presses them at day; when there was no more space for them in the daytime world, whereas the night was long and wide and welcoming for every sort of passion that needed nurturing.
Sienna’s passion was art, in all its various forms, be it in daytime or nighttime. For years she studied music of different sounds; but the music of the night scene fascinated her most; of its ideology to be remembered all through the night regardless of tomorrow. Walking past the bars she remembered her first gig and how you could easily lose yourself to the music. And in holding an instrument, she remembers always her first performance, where the smell, the heat, the light and the nerves made you high and how it drove you to high heavens how you lose yourself to music you make, and how you know the people watching you are losing themselves too.
Stacy stretched out a hand and offered Sienna some cigarettes. Sienna shook her head. She didn’t smoke because she didn’t like to and her pets didn’t like to and her parents might smell the smoke on her and she’d get busted. She met Stacy in College and their passion for art brought them together. Though, Stacy was bolder and more aggressive, and she talked like she knew everything in a certain air of arrogance. But it wasn’t senseless arrogance; she knew a lot of things and she was notorious for it. Though at times she was irritatingly self centered and found ways to make everything around her about her, all these meant nothing, because she said, and indeed she is, talented.
“Everybody’s making this big deal about the King dying and all,” she said, trying to light her cigarette, “as if there’s anything they can do about it.”
Sienna nodded. “He’d been a good king.”
“Yeah, but the scandals!” Stacy blew out rivulets of smoke, “He’s had like what, five, six wives in thirty five years? I have nothing against what he did for the country but it’s too chauvinistic, how he’s had that many wives.”
Stacy took in a long draft and blew it out, “And his children. None of them are worth anything, those dirty bastards. I can’t imagine any of them taking over the country.”
“They can be assassinated,” Sienna said.
“They’re drinking buddies with all the assassins.” Stacy remarked sarcastically, “Out to kill any older offspring the king has that the public doesn’t know of, so they wont rise up and take over. Haha, that’d be a bummer; what if your Dad turned out to be the king’s legitimate son?”
Sienna laughed. The thought was entertaining. Papa, for all she knew, spent all his time working and keeping a low and humble profile, born and raised in the same manner. His blood ties to royalty, though be it distant, was impossible. “He’d probably move up as king and give me all the ice cream I want.”
“All that fucking power only to give you ice cream.”
“Hey, I’m his little princess.” Sienna laughed, scratching her chin thoughtfully. If Papa became king, then he could probably save that little penguin island that was slowly sinking into the pacific. He could probably open that free food center he talked on the phone to Grandpa so much. Then Mama, she could finally fulfill her dreams of giving out education to her poor little provincial hometown up north…
“If I was princess I’d buy all the booze and Mj I want,” Stacy said, smiling at the smoke that floated momentarily in front of her face, “and I’d probably save all the pandas in the world.”
“I’d spend all my royal allowance to help fund projects on how to save the global ecosystem.”
“…And the ozone layer.”
“…And make giant fruits and vegetables that stay fresh for years so nobody will ever go hungry ever again.”
“…And buy a beautiful Gibson les Paul.” Stacy sighed.
Sienna nodded. Gibson guitars were very expensive, but then all the good guitars were. Everything that was good was expensive; it always has been.
Inside bars, the smell of smoke and alcohol intensified tenfold. Kids hungry for all the artsy passion the night had to offer stood squashed like sardines, smoking, drinking, talking and engaging into their own acts of passion. For some it was the mere thought they were after, the mere scene of it all, for some, just passion and nothing else, throw in a drink or two.
“Great. So great of you to join us tonight.” Gem said.
Sienna nodded and smiled faintly. Gem, a girl who shone too much in the day and shone like royalty at night and for the right reasons. She was tall and she was pretty, and everything she did and she wore and sang become the epitome of near perfection, or at least for the people around her. She was the subject of desire and envy, but deep inside one cannot help but adore her. Sienna wished at some times, that her hair fell the same way as Gem’s did, and shone the way it did. Her own hair was neither short nor long and was so unevenly layered it looked rather blunt, and was dark and dull and hung seemingly unmoving around her face. Though she didn’t care at all for looks and fashion, being around Gem, one could not help it. Because Gem, she was the rock star, she was the goddess, she was the icon, the princess of the starless, smog filled night sky and the streets that shone of neon lights…a true gem of the night.
“Come with me to the bar. I must buy you drinks.” Gem pulled at Stacy and Sienna’s wrists and led them to the bar. Gem was friends with everyone, even with those she didn’t know by name. Her charm could easily break through the walls of doubt and within minutes she could know about your whole life even without knowing your name.
“What’s the catch?” Stacy asked as she put the slender drinking glass of bright liquid to her lips.
“None.” Gem threw her head back and poured the contents directly into her throat. Nobody could throw their head back or take shots like Gem. There was a certain way of how she did things and it made them remarkably hers. “It’s a celebration.” She beckoned to the bartender to give her another one.
“For what?” Sienna asked.
Gem raised her glass and she did so with breathtaking perfection. “Cheers. For anarchy.”
A clinking of glass and three simultaneous shots followed.
“Anarchy for what?” Stacy asked.
“Against the monarchy.” Gem replied, “I mean, the government is like, too totalitarian. Whatever happened to the voice of the people?”
“The king always listened to the voice of the people, I think.” Sienna said.
“Well, he’s dead now.” Stacy said.
“Who’s next in line to the throne again?” Gem asked.
“George the Vampire,” Stacy laughed.
“All his descendants are vampires.” Gem said.
“To anarchy.” Stacy declared.
“To the people.” Gem laughed.
Then there was a toast. And another. It went on all through the night and until the neon lights all flashed into sleep and the darkness bid its goodbyes.

“How many fucking bottles of alcohol did they fucking strike?” Sheldon asked indignantly, turning the wheel. The streets were now wet and gray, the sky dark and hazy orange in the horizon, “You were supposed to perform, man.”
“We backed out.” Sienna said, “They were too drunk.”
Sheldon frowned. “Oh god.”
“Sorry.”
“Nah.”
The rest of the drive was silent; devoid of voices save from the ones omitted by the radio. News of the king’s death rang fresh still, and at one time, questions of other matters. Sienna listened blankly, looking out at the still empty streets, imagining if in the next few months it might change. Change would be good. There would be difference.
“Sienna?”
Without taking her eyes off from looking out at the window, Sienna said, “Yeah?”
“Should I drive you all the way home?”
“Nah. I’ll skate from here.” Sienna took out the wheels for her shoes, waved Sheldon goodbye and skated off home.