You Lost Punk?
You hear the announcment come from the crackling worn out speaker on the subway car. "Due to track service this train will terminate here thank you for riding and have a nice day." It's a misnomer, not only because its the dead of night outside but this towwn is anything but nice. It was supposed to be a simple no stops ride from Manhattan to your home in upper Queens but you stuck in the middle of Brooklyn with out out a clue where you are cause you never got off in this neighborhood.
It's 1979 New York City. The days are bareable if you can stand the bums and wide eyed idealized and optimistic tourists, but when the sun goes down you either better be indoors or tough as nails and you aren't one or the other. You are just a humble student at Midtown High on you're way after a long day at the Empire State building getting photos fo a photography project. The lure and awe of midtown distracted you so much you lost of track of the time. As its now nine o'clock at and your parents must be worried sick about you. To make things worse its a long walk to the next open subway station.
you get as much info you can from the MTA booth and step off the elevated platform onto the streets below. Either side of the street you see run down pawn shops, Chinese resturants, and boarded up apartments or just very run down ones. An old movie theather sits with its marque still flashing; Ralph Bakshi's Heavy Traffic 10:30 John Carpenter's Halloween 10:45 Midnight Madness Double feature George A Romero's Dawn Of The Dead and Ridley Scott's Alien. With a promise of The Godfather Part 1 and 2 as a noon double feature the following day, but you don't have the time. You have to get home before things get really bad. You cautiously make your way up the street when a group runs out of Chinese Resturant, a very angry chef in tow waving a meat cleaver and shouting "Stop police Thief!" The clerk was just robbed! and the theives are headed right for you! The turn a hard left into an alley just as you get a good look at them, and to you're surpise a good chunk of them were girls!
You try to walk past the alley minding you own bussiness moving on when you feel something poking your side right where your kindey is. Just as the chef and clerk stop to catch thier breath beside you. "Hey you there boy which way did girls who rob my resturant go?" the chef says tapping his cleaver in his palm flat side down. You like wise feel something poking the back of your head, your heart almost stops and it takes all your will power to not scream as you're quite sure it's a gun.
"Uh I think they went" You feel the poking get just a little harder before you point down the opposite direction along Edison Street. The chef and clerk thank you before returing to their store having given up the chase or thinking they were too far to bother with now you breathe a sigh of relief as the objects on you are pulled away but the sentiment is short lived as soon a hand closes over your mouth as you're dragged back into the alley.
"Don't scream. no sudden moves or else is all you hear as two more hands slip over your eyes. Your captors quide you as best as they can until you hear the rattling of a key in a lock followed by the clicking of locks opening and the rattling of chains loosening up. You're released and take in your new surroundings. Your in the entrence hall of an old apartment block the lift long out of order and the place reeks of dead rats and the sickly sweet smell of grass..not the good kind either but the kind your mother told you to never take if ever offered it. The girls who held you look over you with hands on thier hips but the one most intrested you you has a light fuschia tint to her skin and her purple anmd aquamarine hair in pigtails held on with white star clips. Her green sleeveless jacket has been decorated with everything from saftey pins to fish hooks. a bike chain runs from her left shoulder to her right jeans pocket, presumably to a padloxk tucked away as a weapon.
A belt around her waist holds a big Bowie knife with a green rubber handle with skulls molded into the rubber grip, the other girl on the left holds a 38. snub nosed revolver in hand, probably stolen off an NYPD officer. "Go; up the stairs, don't stop no matter what you see and don't talk to anyone. The girl with the big knife commands, you assume she's the boss of this gang and as she gets in front of you to lead you, you see a name on the back of her jacket Aria. With a gun aimed right at you you go along but keep your eyes peeled on the surroundings. The hallways walls are cracked and peeling. You hear loud banging noises and moanings coming from behind most of the apartment doors as you asscend the staircase, and every non and then either an atractive young woman in a black miniskirt and halter top and shades asking if "You're looking for a date." or the same thing coming from some sallow, overweight, sullen and raspy voiced one with smoker's cough. You'd think seeing that could servem as a cautionary tale to the young ones in this bilding.
"Don't talk to him, just get back to work old bitch you barley made your quota last night." Aria Orders the old whore as a cigarette smolders in her tar stained fingers.
"Hey You keep lettin only young girls into that little club of yours and bringing down the number of guys willing to come here for bussiness..."Boss" The old whore says before letting out a smokers hacking cough. "Not to mention what you did to big money when you took over the flat."
"Yeah well it's too late for you old bitch, you had your chance to stand up and take over years ago and you didn't do shit..so you work for me now and My girls won't be the trick turners around here as long as I'm in charge so shut and get back to work...here buy yourself some more Camels." Aria says tossing a few twenties from the bag of robbery cash to the floor. The old hookers flock like Central Park Pidgeons to bread crumbs and start to fight over the cash. you look away as you're lead up more flights of stairs trying to make light of the situation.
"So who are you girl's anyway? Definetly a gang I can tell.." A girl in a red leather jacket and short frizzled hair chuckles at your words.
"You're lookin at the Sixth Street Sirens short stuff, Ari here came by when this whole block of flats was nothing but a shit hole. got the place in order too, only whores left are the old ones and they'll be out once...ahhh this goes through." She says as a cart loaded with green paper wrapped packages rolls by. The girl pulls a a knife out cutting a corner of the bag and out spills a fine white powerd which she samples a bit of on her tounge. "pure uncut...Peru from the Andes you guys ripped off right from the dock on this and its for Studio 54?"
"Fuck yeah it is," Aria says giving her a high five. "Sell the A list Celebrities the good shit and they'll come begging for more...now remember we're selling this stuff so tell Travolata and Bowie only one line and a little bit or else they're next gig will be featured on the all dead show now move your ass!" She says giving the cart a little push.
"Uh Aria? why aren't we cutting it with powdered milk or talc like the old gangs did?" One of her croney's asks this seems to anger Aria.
"We sell the good stuff for half price to get those Snob Celebs hooked and wanting to only buy off us right to keep bussiniess booming then when they get used to the pure stuff and so zoned out they wont know what their snorting so that THEN we can start cutting it and jacking up the price. They'll be so hooked on it they'll pay any price to get it no questtions asked." She says with such a strategic insight not seen in lowlifes before that you can't hel[p but be impressed at the way she handles selling coke like a broker on Street.
"Wow Aria you sure are smart."
"And that's why I'M the over boss Stacey no go on get some sleep..and remeber no body does any of that stuff in the Sirens. Never get high on your own supply." Her words...you can't tell if she's saying them out of genuine concern for her "Sisters in crime," or as a greedy dark version of an entrupener only concerned with money.
Some time later Aria has you all alone in her bedroom, easisly one of the better apartments in the building. Top floor with the latest stereo setpup to DJ quality Hi Fy and boxes pof records. She rumages through one until she settles on Kiss' album Destroyer. Setting it too track three; God of Thunder, written by Stanley, vocals by Simmons. She sighs in relief as the low almost primal chords kick in her head nodding a bit to the beat and she even does a Simmons like lick of her lips as if enjoying an well adged wine before staring at you with those firery yet confidant eyes.
"So....I'll bet you wanna know, "Why did one of the toughest girl gangs in New York bring to the Over Bosses place? Well First I'd like so thanks for not being a sucker and ratting us out to the Chinese guys." You gulp as you pick up some trash she left lying around and here you thought girls would keep a place to stay neater than boy gang members.
"Uhh well you..see it's uhh it's not like I..had much of a choice. Yo poked my kidney with a knife and my skull with a gun what could I have said." You say as she takes a drink of soda casually as if it was another day to her.
"Hey, i didn't get to be over boss and top bopper of this gang by being stupid. Say the girls and I really did off you in front of two witness both armed and mad as hell, then what? Sides look here." She pulls the snub nose she had on her out from a shoulder holster and pops the swing open chamber out. "Not even loaded, Not that I don't carry on me just dont wanna risk an itchy trigger finger leaving a corpse." Her words only give a false reassurance as you decide to put your foot down knowing what you know now.
"Look, can I just please go home now? It's late; my parents are worried sick, and I...I don't belong her. I don't belong to you're world. I'm a good kid who gets good grades in my Senior year with a shot at an Ivy leauge school soon....or why don't you come with me? How old are you Aria? Not too old to go back to school and turn your life around?"
"Listen Poindexter, maybe you still belive that sappy Disney bullshit about everything being a slap happy cartoon where all you're problems can be solved with a song. But this is the real world. And It's not pretty. It's a dog eat dog, kill or be killed, might makes right world that chews you up and spits you out if you aint got the stones to bite back. Now..this is for not ratting." Aria says reaching into her jacket pocket and handing you a roll of dollar bills, more money than any birthday or job you've held in your life and she just handed it to you like it was a drop in the bucket to her.
"Ok...Thank you but..why the speech there?" You ask now curious if not wary of what she's up too.
"Becuase I'm also making a proposition. The Sirens are by tradition an all girls gang..but I think you're kinda cute with your shy awkward facade and they way you're all skittish seeing this kinda stuff for the first time. You're like a little puppy, and i've always wanted a puppy."
"Wait...are you...are you offering me to join you?" You say blushing hard, too shocked to even think for a second that this is real and actually happening.
"Yep, how'd you like to be my under boss? My second in command that I get to show around. I promise you won't need to pull jobs or nothing like that. Just stay on my arm like a prada bag and make be my lapdog when I want." You choke a bit and do you're best to look cross.
"I most certianly will NOT!" I'm not some little Terrier for you to carry around in your purse Aria Blaze, I want to go home to my family. I'm sorry you don't seem to have one." This get her really mad, Aria jumps up from the couch and wraps her fingers around your cheeks squeezing them so hard your tounge is forced through your lips.
"Don't...you...EVER say anything like that again! You don't know me that way...you don't...you don't know the family I had." She says her anger receeding some as her grip loosenes up. "Ok fine be that way you wanna go? Well then go, but if The Dominators come after you gunning for blood don't come crying to us for protection." She says as she sits on her bed and lays back on it. "I'll just go to bed..alone..again." She says as you lay beside her tilting your head to look at her. Her deep purple eyes no longer burning with anger or a lust for power. but for a longing for someone to just hold her. A lover comforting embrace that someone like her is all but isolated from ever experiencing. You can't help but gently lay a hand on her hair and stroking it as you gaze into the abbyss that is her eyes.
"You promise no fighting or drugs or anything like that? I just...i can't stand that any of it."
"Look I'm only doing it to look out for the girls...I knew some, really good ones too in this neighboorhood that ended up dead in alleyways because of the living hell this skid row city's become. So I watch out for them and make sure it doesn't happen on my turff, even if I gotta be bad to the bone to do it...then let me be bad." She says almost seeming to take a sick joy in doing what she does, but...It is who she is.
"You know...you caan sugar coat it all you want, say you're being noble bad guys or all that big talk, but your still just a gang and a criminal through and through Aria...and if you don't change...I don't think I want to be associated with you at all."
"And who mad you judge of all the earth hmm? don't act like you've got the high ground on morallity at least I admit what I do is bad."
"Yet you do it anyway...IT's not too late to take it one small step at a time to change for the better." You say as to your surprise she takes you by the hands and pulls you towards her before pressing her lips on yours hard. She bares her amourous kiss like something she's held back her whole life which for all you know she has."
"What?..What was that for?" You say though she sees the color flushing to your cheeks and giggles, Aria Blaze, the over boss of the Sirens gang who had picked fights that drew blood and most likely ended with the loser dying in dank grimy alleys and sold pure white cocaine to the celebrities of Studio 54, giggling. Aria poses on the bed as she gives you a half lidded gaze before making her shoulder sslide off her arms exposing her tank top, its got rips and tears which could be knife slashes for all you know.
"Listen you don't have to be a member right away just...consider this my way of saying thanks for not being a snitch and covering the girls and me back there...a night with me...me...the toughest bitch in New York. Get a chance to see im not as icy or all into boot knives and fist fights."
"You mean....sleep with you?" You ask as in spite of everything the way she posing like some model for a 42nd street strip club on the bed her boots the next to go as she uses a knife to cut the laces not caring they end up runined. She sets it back aside and now loose from the cut lacing, her boots are free to slip off exposing the black silk stocking pantyhouse she wore from her feet to waist. You take in her well rounded hips to waist ratio, all that demanding of being in shape to survive in a scrap has surprisingly done wonders for her figure. She's not Mz. March material but her hips taper off in a femmine curve at a slender smooth curce of her waistline as her abdomen connects to a modestly sized pair of breasts.
Breasts which she teases you with by giving a side to side shake which is maddeningly seductive in spit of her nature and the circumstances surrounding everything. You look around and realize the windows not to far a way with a fire escape that leads all the way to the street, where you see through the windows to a cross town bus probabily the last one of the night heading for the corner wher it will turn to make a stop, it could get you home or at least away from this place...but should you?
Aria lifts her arm up and curls her fingers towards her as she beckons you to the bed with her, she even puckers her lips blowing you a kiss for good measure. "Well? what's it gonna be big boy? Me? or the long lonesome road called regret?" She says as she lifts her tank top up over her head exposing a black spandex bra with little spikes poking from the black cups as she wiggles her hips like a cobra being tempted by a snake charmer....well it's definetly charming A SNAKE. Shaking her lime green jeans free exposng a tight thong made of the same material as her bra. It's so tight an constrictive and it leaves little to the imagination as you see the outlines of her labial folds contoured and detailed behind the confines of fabric. You feel like time has stopped, it's now or never and you clear your throat as you give her your answer...
"Aria Blaze I...