As the rain poured upon the melancholy theater of Seattle, Mia and her family sat uncomfortably inside of a black Tahoe as morning traffic began to impede on any possibility of timeliness. Frustrated and disappointed in his attempt at bonding with his family, Walter sat in the driver's seat constantly checking his Rolex. Mia sat in the backseat with Marcy staring out the window, listening to music while Marcy sat entertained by whatever application she could download to her smartphone.
Melissa sat passenger staring out the window with an incomplete smile as her mind juggled the occasions of Walter's possible adultery. The late nights, the phone call interruptions at dinner, his phone always turned upside down; ideas all provided by the recent breach of information that still tickled her brain. That itch that remained unscratched.
As the rain began to fall heavier, the music on the radio was interrupted by an emergency weather report:
"News you can count on! This is KIRO 7!"…
"Quite possibly the strongest storm this city has seen in 30 years, good morning I'm Monica Belfast. We have reporter Chris Carcetti standing by at the Museum of Music, Chris how's the weather?" "Not great Monica, if it's not already obvious in fact it's going to be this way for a few days with a violent thunderstorm coming along the coast line quite possibly affecting"…
The emergency broadcast caught Walter's attention just in time for Melissa to search for a more uplifting station. "Tell us something we don't already know" Melissa said under her breath, pressing the tuner button for dear life. Walter hesitated for a second then countered. "Wait a minute, I need to hear this. This might affect the rally turnout, god-dammit! Change it back!" Walter demanded.
Melissa gave him an arrogant look.
"Change the damn station back!" He demanded again as he switched lanes on the interstate. Melissa finally complied, changing the station back to the news broadcast.
"… but there will be more updates later on tonight. Monica, back to you"
Walter looked out the driver side window, slightly agitated. Damn he quietly whispered to himself. Melissa looked at him and snickered to which Walter replied "You know, I know you're not my biggest supporter right about now but you don't have to be so fucking cheery about the situation, sweetheart" Melissa turned her head to see Mia and Marcy occupied. "You really underestimate the level of my emotions right now, Walter" Mia snatched out one of her earphones and listened into the conversation. Her eyes remained closed.
"When were you going to tell me about your impromptu visit from Special Agent Lundy?" She asked.
With a look of disappointment on his face Walter reluctantly said "he's investigating the hack, he's apart of a Cyber Division, Melissa. What are you stockpiling enough bullshit to dredge up an offensive against me? It's protocol, it's the FBI for christ sakes" He added.
"He threatened me with a subpoena for records, Walter, which is somewhat irrelevant given the fact that I have nothing to hide. I never cooked any of my books, so I think to myself, where's the fire?"
Walter sat in silence, his right hand firmly gripping the steering wheel as Melissa continued her well fueled rant. "You have to talk to me Walt, let me know what's going on so I can prepare"-
Walter quickly intervened. "I just told you. It's his job to dig deep, these career driven guys are sharks to politicians when they smell just a modicum of blood in the water. He needs the controversy to perpetuate his bullshit $40,000 life of tv dinners on a barcalounger. Let it go"
Mia re-inserted the right earphone and continued to zone out, her eyes still shut.
"The right lane is open Walter you should take this exit, it's about a mile out from the University'' Melissa said as she gazed out the window in disappointment.
"...the storm is here" Melissa randomly said as she observed the sky. "Yeah no shit" Walter said under his breath. His phone began to vibrate inside of his shoulder bag in the middle compartment. "Ahh, shit" He murmured. Melissa pressed the bluetooth icon on the dashboard which placed the call on speaker. He looked over at her, spitefully.
Bitch, he thought.
"Mayor Cartwell's phone, how can I help you?" Melissa said while staring Walter in the eye. Walter shook his head.
"Yes ma'am, it's Sargeant Walker. We're right behind you. Are we getting off at this exit, we're about a mile out from the University?" Sergeant Brandon Walker, the head of Cartwell security, asked.
"Yeah we're getting off here. I'm gonna switch vehicles, Melissa is going to take this car, I'll ride with you guys after we drop Mia off" Walter said.
"Roger that Sir" Walker Replied.
The call ended.
Walter looked over at Melissa. "Do you feel better now?" He asked. Melissa smiled, scornfully. Her jaw clenched. Her brows furrowed, while her fingernails tapped repeatedly on the leather surface of the car door, from index to pinky finger.
A minute later the Tahoe pulled in front of the McMahon Hall dormitories, populated with other neglectful parents under congested schedules, carrying luggage and other miscellaneous items inside. The dormitory was coed with a limited capacity of one-hundred twenty students on the Holliday wing of the residential area, housed next to the local bars and shopping conveniences making local human interaction almost a certainty.
This was what Mia began to despise. Not the expensive experience of a 4 year pseudo-intellectual renaissance, but the social components that came with it. The inevitable connection with gossiping, vanity driven classmates stern with criticism a kind hyper sexuality; that human interaction and group dependency. She was infatuated with her beautiful hatred of all the warm bodies.
A black Suburban occupied with two police officers pulled up behind the Cartwell family. Mia exited the sedan with haste, and walked towards the trunk with Marcy trailing behind her. With her mind occupied with thoughts of being alone in the ongoing battle between her parents, Marcy anxiously asked, "You're coming back on the weekends, right?" "I don't know Marce, I'll probably be too busy to be entertained by mom and dad's bullshit. It is sad that they require an audience, isn't it?" said Mia. "Well this sucks, why do I have to stay?" Said Marcy.
"Hey, relax I'll be around here and there, it's not like we will be any less of the inseparable team that we are now, just give it some time" Mia said in a gentle manner. "Do you hate living with us?" Marcy asked. "Well... yeah of course. But that has nothing to do with you--specifically. I just think that it's time I tried to figure out this being on my own shit. I'm almost twenty-one, Marce. I gotta figure out things for myself. You'll get there one day, don't worry. And if it doesn't happen fast enough--I'll throw you a rope" Mia said with a smile. "Now give me a hug".
Walter and Melissa exited the car to give their goodbyes to Mia as Phil and other political staff and security keep their distance. Mia struggled to pull the handle up on the luggage bag as she dragged it from the trunk of the vehicle. "I can get that for you, Mia" Walker said as he approached. "No, thanks. I can handle it from here" She said, struggling to get the handle up on the bag. Everyone watched as she struggled, awkwardly in full view of the public. Then.
"Here sweetheart let me help you, this is pretty heavy. I don't expect you to carry this all the way up the stairs" Walter said. " I got it dad it's ok, I only have this bag, Jesus." Melissa pulled out her phone to take a picture, now smiling. "Wait a minute sweetheart let's take a picture. This is the first day of adulthood...sort of. You can finally start paying your own credit card bills, aren't you excited?" Walter called over Phil to take the picture. "Phil, can you take this real quick?"
As Phil made his way over, the Cartwell's came together bearing smiles with no indication of being sentient, their arms constricted around each other tightly as if they know the emotional grip they had on each other was slowly loosening. "Say, vote Cartwell!" Phil shouted enthusiastically. "VOTE CARTWELL!" Before she grabbed her bag, Melissa hugged Mia tightly, kissed her on the forehead. "I'm going to miss you so much, sweetheart. I know we didn't get to spend a lot of time together lately but I promise, I'll make it up to you once this sabbatical kicks in"
Mia smiled back looking up at her mother.
"Where's this sudden wave of sincerity coming from?" Mia asked.
Melissa heavily exhaled and responded: "Well, I haven't been able to buy a vowel from you for the past few weeks sweetie let alone get you to form more than 3 sentences with me, and I know things have still been difficult for you but"-
Mia interjected.
"I'm fine mom. I'm fine. Once I start my classes, I'll have more than enough on my plate to avoid thinking about...things"
Melissa stood equipped with a smile but was possessed with doubt. " I'm sure you will be sweetheart. Just don't pick up any bad habits, please? Hopefully it's not hereditary" Melissa said, laughing to soothe her worry. Mia looked up with a blank stare. "Well, good luck honey" Melissa said, making her way back to the car.
Walter approacheed Mia checking his watch, still seeming afflicted by time quickly dwindling away. Mia suspected the impending bullshit and reacted early "I really just want to get inside dad I got the bags, I'm fine" Mia said. Relieved by her reluctance for a proper send off Walter replied "That's fine sweetheart, just be careful. If you need anything or if anyone gives you problems, don't hesitate to call me or your mother. You know, contrary to your well supported reservations against us, we are here to help you, Trisha" "Yeah, noted dad. I won't do anything the good lord wouldn't do I promise, but please stop calling me that" Mia said, filled with indignation.
"What? Since when did you start hating the name Patricia?" Walter asked. "For the past 18 years..you know what.. it's fine, dad" Mia said trying to quickly end the conversation. "I've been calling you that your whole life, since you were little you never said anything about it" he said. "It was grandma's name and she's dead. She died, horribly" Mia confessed with untamed agitation. Walter looked down, seemingly unaffected and chuckled. "Wow, you definitely are your mother's girl aren't you" Walter replied.
"I'm sorry, I just.."
"It's ok sweetheart, I get it. Trust me, I'm no more comfortable with you being on your own than your mother is. Call me if you need anything, I'm serious Mia" Walter said as he walked away. "Bye dad" Mia said before walking towards the entrance, leaving her father for the political advisors who begin to swarm in like shiny-coated vultures. "Take care, Mia!" Phil shouted in the background.
As Mia made her way into the dormitory she released her handle on the luggage bag and looked around. The walls were constructed with cinder block painted white decorated with festive welcome signs and pictures of hall of famed alumni. Sunlight beamed onto the decor by way of the large framed windows of the first floor, which set off a chain reaction once the light hit the walls, leaving Mia in the center of the entrance hall on fully lit display. The hall was so still that you could damn near hear the silence.
Then.
Rage filled thoughts began to cycle through her mind, setting her abdomen ablaze. Trying to catch every bit of air that her lungs would allow, she opened the small pocket of her luggage bag, reached for her bottle of Percocet and popped two. A small picture of a younger Mia with Melissa and Marcy fell out of the pocket. Mia sat on the stairway to catch a breath until her heart rate slowed down.
A small panic attack.
Fuck,
she whispered to herself. She plucked the photo and tucked it into the breast pocket of her pink flannel shirt. As her panic attack settled, she turned to the elevator.
As Mia made her way up to her respective floor, her small body began to vibrate from the subwoofer acoustics and amplified chatter one floor at a time.
2nd floor.
3rd floor.
4th floor, finally. Walking towards room 417, she felt the calming aura of psychedelic rock softly echoing through the hallway. Getting hotter in direction she identified the melody coming from her room. The door was propped wide open.
Her friend Samantha sat on her bed as Will sat backwards in the chair. An assortment of sativa and indica marijuana strains sat laid out on Sam's bed, wrapped airtight in plastic bags along with color assorted pills and cocaine. Business was being conducted. The well postered room mirrored their fascination with 80's techno-punk culture, and 90's pop culture.
"Fuck. Ok, so I'm confused, it's $45 for an eighth and $60 for a gram right?" Samantha said trying to decipher the logic behind the overpriced marijuana. "No it's $60 for the eighth and $85 for the gram, you fucking swindler" Will responded. "You're charging me gas prices for weed and I'm the swindler? You've been spending too much time around that stock broker asshole that you call a father" Sam said. Will took his hat off exposing his full head of damp, thick curly hair, running his fingers through repeatedly.
"No, I'm charging you gas prices for gas, this shit is pretty strong; this isn't like that little over-the-counter gumball shit you and Mia like to take from these yuppie dispensaries" Will said. Will was a twenty something hipster with an affinity for solid colored clothing. He towered over Mia and slightly over Samantha. He chose a bearded approach which depreciated his pretty boy features. His honey shaded skin. Curly black hair. His defined jawline coincided with his perfect height. His light brown eyes.
Mia entered the room and pushed her luggage bag against her bed. "Hey fuck you, gumballs are awesome" She said, capturing the attention.
"Fashionably late,with no sense of fashion, what's happenin!" Sam shouted, jokingly. Mia's reflexed witticisms kicked in. "Said one bitch with a polluted womb to the next. What's goin on guys?" Mia hopped on the bed, dragging her bag closer to her bed to get her laptop. "You know you missed out earlier. We met a few cool people, I mean, I know how much of a nazi you are for social conventions. Why is your face so sweaty?" Sam asked. Mia calmly brushed off the comment while rummaging through her bag.
"Yo, here's the stuff you asked for, all in assorted variety" Will said, tossing Mia the opioids. "Lightly coated with the smallest dose of fentanyl that can be theoretically tolerated. Only a hint of sugar" Mia said, sarcastically. "Fucking seriously? I'm better off going to a dispensary" Sam said, anxiously. "Fuck no--thanks but no thanks for the fucking loose cannon sarcasm, Mia, I'm more so in the market for appreciation"
"Thanks, Will. I think I forgot my wallet and my usb back in my room. My old room" Mia said. "Don't worry about it, I know you're good for it" Will said, collecting his drug assortment and placing it in a dark blue backpack. As Will stuffed the drugs back into the bag, Mia noticed a snub nose revolver sticking out. The burgundy, wooden handle indicated the sophistication of the weapon's original owner. It was obviously stolen.
"Is it rabbit season or duck season, Will?" Mia asked, sarcastically as she eyed the weapon, smiling. He quickly zipped the bag closed with a frown, looking back at Mia. He hoped that the facade of a street mentality would impress her apart from the other gullible suburban beauties he vied for; it didn't.
"Well-- I'll leave you lizzies to it. Something tells me this room is about to get really fucking depressing" Will said, looking at Mia before heading out. "Thanks, Willhelm!" Mia shouted while scratching her left breast, kicking her shoes off, sending them soaring. The door slammed shut.
Sam looked at Mia, hesitant to say what she's thinking but released anyway. "Don't get me wrong, I love Will, but...just out of curiosity, how long are you going to keep stringing him along?" Mia took her earphones out and sat up in the bed. "What do you mean?" Sam stared at mia for a few seconds. "Nevermind" Sam said with a heavy exhale. Mia sat up on the bed with her arms wrapped around her knees and responded, "We're friends Sam, and that's probably where that train stops"
Samantha pulled out a well rolled joint, lighted it and took a pull. "Well, since we're blowing smoke..." Sam said blowing the smoke towards Mia, before passing the joint to her. Samantha was an ironic individual in contrast to Mia. She was tall with bleached red hair, big brown eyes and a healthy set of breasts that she put on display above her high cheekbones. A socialite in training.
Mia took the joint and inhaled an even bigger pull then coughing, her inexperienced lungs drowning in THC vapor.
COUGH! COUGH!
"You know, your dad was downstairs a few minutes ago when I got dropped off..." Mia mentioned. "Yeah? Well, he is at the beck and call of Walter isn't he?" Sam said. "So what, you guys aren't talking now? Mia said. "No. He's got some shit going on with the FEDS that he wont tell me and my mom about. Lying every chance that he gets. I'm kinda over it. He's an asshole" Samantha said.
"I'm in the same boat, remember? I don't know, man. Phil is actually a good guy. If anything is corrupting him I'd blame the campaign…"
Samantha smirked.
"....Whatever, Mia" Sam responded as she placed the joint in an ashtray while laying on her back. Scrolling through her text messages.
(Brief silence)
"Fuck! I have to go back to get my USB drive tomorrow after I speak to Michaels, you down to come with?" Mia asked. "Dean Michaels? What for?" "Because I have to convince him to stop fucking my mother" Sam coughed heavily out of surprise and amusement, intrigued by the carnal controversy. "Holy shit! Dean Michaels is fucking Melissa? You must be proud" Sam said with a chuckle.
Mia snickered. "Wow. Congrats Samantha-- you're a grade A cunt"
"I'm kidding. Mia...Mia!" Sam shouted as Mia ignored her.
Mia, now irritated, popped in her earphones and closed her eyes once again and laid back on the bed, shutting out Samantha as the side effects of the percocets kicked in, combined with the weed. With her eyelids sealed, she began to dream slowly.