Chicago Illinois, 199X

     “Yo man, what’s up?”

     “What’s up brother?”

     “You know me, chillin’ like a villain. How’s work?”

     “Ehh…”

     Nate eyed his childhood friend Deacon, who was making a face so depressing that the other could feel the apathy and disgust dripping from his scowl. Deacon was sliding into the booth opposite Nate, having just arrived at the tiny diner in the South Side. They had a cozy window booth and the golden-yellow light from the early morning sunrise flooded through the window and spilled onto their table. The two friends saw this light from different perspectives, as Nate had just recently awakened to the new dawn while Deacon had been working the nightshift for several months and was just getting off work.

     The two childhood friends had similarities but at the same time were worlds apart in their personalities. Nate was charming and outgoing while Deacon was withdrawn and often grumpy. Both had been part of the rocker or “burnout” scene in high school, which they had both graduated from three years ago. Nate had rockstar frontman good looks, he was something of a ladies-man, with a dazzling white, charismatic smile, and long blonde hair. He was dressed in a faded jean jacket with two patches on the back, one read “Iron Maiden”, the other “Motorhead” and a simple black T-shirt underneath. Everyone in their school used to joke that he looked like Vince Neil, or Sebastian Bach, and his easy charm and intelligence had eased him into dates with many of the best-looking girls in the neighborhood, though for some, he had received a reputation as a con man of sorts, which was not entirely undeserved.

    Deacon on the other hand, while not unattractive, was more reserved and rugged. He wore his long brown hair with his bangs drawn behind him in a half-ponytail, and the bottom portion of his face had been overtaken by a fierce stubble that was halfway between a five-o-clock shadow and full-blown light beard. He wore a black leather biker jacket, black biker boots with a buckle on the side, and a pair of faded jeans. Unlike Nate who was well known in the neighborhood for his breezy, carefree personality, Deacon was more the classic tough guy of their group with a well-deserved fierce reputation. Though not the largest man around, he was known for his volatile temperament and never backed down from a fight no matter the odds. The stories of his fights and conquests had passed into the realm of urban legend across many neighborhoods of the Southside.     

     “Yo man, it can’t be that bad, can it?” Nate asked while banging a straw against the table until it poked through the white wrapper, tearing it free then plunking it into the glass of pop in front of him and rolling the wrapper into a tiny ball between his fingertips.

     Deacon rubbed his forehead while watching Nate. A tired looking waitress came over and took their order, but not before noticing and admiring the pair’s roguish appearance.

     “Who’re you awl supposed’d be?” She looked them both over without hiding it. “You guys supposed ta be a band ‘er somethin’?” She asked with a smirk that was somewhere in between condescending and intrigued.

     Deacon barely looked over at her, she was a typical tough talking Southsider, not worth his time. Girls like her were tedious, filled with problems, anger, resentment, and drama. The type of girl his uncle always used to warn him about. He would say, some girls are just like a little walking tornado, everywhere they went they brought a whirlwind of emotions and destruction, and always tried to suck up everyone nearby into their personal chaos. Everywhere they went, fights and drama followed. He sighed when he saw Nate predictably smiling back at her.

     “You know it babe. We’re gonna be the next big thing. Someday soon you’ll be talking about Nate Addams and Deacon Crawford instead of Axl and Slash.”

     “Y’think?” The waitress’ tone was more of a statement than a question, she was still deciding whether to be impressed or not. It was hard to impress these Southside girls after all. “Well, you’re kinda cute I guess.” she finally said. “What’dya want ta eat?”

     Nate leaned forward and looked at the small bronzed rectangular name plate above her small perky breasts that were impressive even through the somewhat baggy blue uniform shirt she wore.

     “Well Tammy, are you guys serving burgers yet?”

     Tammy popped her gum and answered. “Uh-uh.” She turned around and glanced at a sign behind the front counter. It read “Lunch starts at 10:30”.

     “Ok. I’ll get the bacon and eggs platter with an order of pancakes.”

     Tammy turned towards Deacon next. “And you, cutie?”

     “I’ll do the same. Coffee too please.” Deacon did not look up at her and it seemed to annoy the tough young brunette. They were all the same, he thought, angry when they weren’t the center of attention, and somehow managed to be angry when they were. After she left, Nate turned back to his stoic friend.

     “What the hell dude, that’s all you! She was all flirting with you and stuff.”

     “Yeah, not interested.”

     “You gay all of a sudden? Dude, she’s got a smokin’ body.”

     “I’m good.”

     Nate studied the brooding young man across from him and then a thought dawned on him. He replied in his slightly raspy, sing-song voice. 

     “Oh man, you’re still not hung up on Sarah, are you?” When Deacon just squinted his dark eyes and stared out the window at the morning sun, he continued. “Aw man, you gotta forget about her, f’real. We’re too young to settle down to just one girl, how many times do I have to tell you this before you get it through that thick caveman head?”

     Deacon turned his square-jawed ruggedness towards Nate’s more elf-like delicateness defiantly, a slight smirk curling at the corner of his lips.

     “You don’t know her like I do. She’s kind and sweet and…”

     “And she’s got a phat ass!” Nate laughed with his boyish stoner laugh.

     “Shut up.”

     “Dude.”

     “I’m not gonna cheat on her. I’m not like that.”

     “Dude, you’re a good dude and all, but I think that’s your problem. Look man, these broads are a dime a dozen, Sarah’s nothing special, and she’s playin’ you. The secret to chicks is, you gotta play it cool man, you can’t be so desperate, they can smell that shit like a predator.”

     “I’m not desperate, I just actually lo-“ Deacon thought better about his choice of words and the company he was in and then continued. “I just really like her.”

     In an overly exaggerated gesture, Nate threw his hands up and then let his head thunk heavily onto the hard table.

     “Aww man! Don’t give me that love bullshit! Dude, you can do so much better than her! You’re in the prime of your life dude, the world is at our fingertips, and trust me man, she’s not worth it.”

     “It’s not about if I can do better or not. I choose her. We get along, I like being with her.”

     “Aw, how sweet.” Tammy, the waitress was back now, and placing two cups of coffee down in front of them. The sarcastic tone in her voice sounded like she meant the exact opposite of what she said, but it was hard to tell.

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     “Tammy, baby.” Nate playfully pulled at the waitress’ arm, his face comically animated. “Would you please tell this good but tragically misguided man the heartbreaking mistake he is making here? This is a matter of life and death over here!”

     She returned a flirty smile and popped her gum again.

     “I dunno, I think it’s kinda sweet, but yawr friend here is right. She’s probably gonna walk all over you if yawr not careful.”

     So, Tammy…” Despite himself, Deacon was now drawn in. “…you’re saying you would rather go for a skirtchasing guy like him? Over a reliable and dependable guy that you can trust?”

     Tammy looked Nate over carefully before replying.

     “Naw, yawr friend is a pig. But he does have a point, sometimes girls can be fickle, and you hafta play hard ta get or they lose interest. Anyway, I prefer my men a bit taller.” She laughed and turned away from the table.

     They both exchanged a smirk. Neither one of them was very tall, being under six foot each, but neither were they exactly short either. But then again when a woman’s standard of the perfect man always seemed to be over six-foot tall, that did in fact make them short from a certain perspective.

     “Look man, I know you think you’re going to start this great fairytale life with your high school sweetheart. Settle down and have kids…but just do me a favor and watch yourself. I know you won’t listen to me, but Sarah is not what you think she is.” Nate pleaded.

     “I get…” Deacon started a response.

     “Just…watch yourself.” Nate cut him off and then held up a fist. Deacon glanced at it skeptically before relenting and banging the side of his own fist against it. “So, tell me again what’s so bad about this job man. The way I hear it you’re making way more than any of the rest of us. We’re growing up man, the gang’s all split up. Times are changin’, it ain’t like it used to be.”

     “Yeah, sometimes I miss the old days.” Deacon responded.

     “We were like some swashbucklers back in the days.” Nate returned a wistful smile.

     “Mario and Carlos are still working for their family’s donut shop, but I think it’s not gonna be long before they join their big brother in the gang life. I haven’t seen Jermaul in about a year now, last I talked to him he was struggling to find a job and Ian was thinking about joining the military. Really man, I might be luckier than the rest of you guys, but I don’t really make that much. I’m saving up for a down payment on old man O’Doyle’s house over on Hoyne street.”

     “Did he finally die or did his family just put him in a home?”

     “They put him in a home, I think. I’m not sure but the house has been for sale for over a month now. I wanna stay in the neighborhood.”

     “Remember he had that tough as shit cat that would like, tear up possums and raccoons and shit?”

     “Yeah.” Deacon laughed. “I think that cat would have taken out a wolf if there were wolves in Chicago. That thing was mean as hell.”

     “I just never pictured you as a cabbie.”

     “Me either, but I got the token from my uncle when he died and I dunno….it’s stressful but OK money. Anyway, it’s just until we take off right?”

     “Damn straight.” Nate figured this warranted another fist bump, which Deacon obliged. “Still, I bet you pick up a lot of hot chicks out there.”

     “I guess.” Deacon shrugged. “But most of them are just crazy man. Drunk and crazy. I’ve only been doing this for a few months, and I’ve seen some crazy shit. I can only imagine the stories the old cabbies could tell. Well, no. I don’t have to imagine, some of them tell me.”

     “You ever get people try to have sex in the back while you’re driving them somewhere?”

     “All the time.” Deacon frowned but let out a sarcastic laugh. “It’s a rough job sometimes, people just look at you like a robot or something. You’re not a real person to them, just a service.”

     “That’s all jobs man. That’s why we gotta be smart. We get the band off the ground and all that stuff’s behind us.” Nate replied.

     The two friends finished their breakfast and afterwards, Deacon walked back out to his cab. He still had some time left on it before he would have to turn it over to the day driver, Saul. He tapped the steering wheel and turned on the radio as he thought about what he would do with this remaining time. It took a while for the heater to warm up the cab, and until then, he played with his breath, pretending to be a dragon as it escaped his lips in great plumes.

     Then an idea hit him. Deacon pulled the column shifter into drive and sped off down the road. His conversation with Nate about Sarah had irritated him. What did he know? Deacon and Sarah had been in love since high school, and he was confident they had what it took to go the distance. He didn’t want to be like his own parents and give up, he wanted to commit for life and honestly couldn’t imagine being with another girl at this point. And after driving a cab all night through the horrible city traffic, he was much too tired and lazy to try. At any rate, he had a little time to do something nice for his girl, he was sure she would appreciate it.

     Deacon stopped by a little corner flower shop on the way over to her house. He wasn’t that knowledgeable about flowers and was thankful there was a younger woman there around his age that was happy to pick out a bouquet for him. She was more than helpful and was openly jealous of a boyfriend that would randomly buy flowers. Proudly the young cabbie drove towards his girlfriend’s house, now armed with an expensive gift that would surely win him some fresh new girlfriend points.

     “She’s gonna freak out.” Deacon mumbled under his breath as he turned left onto the street that her parent’s house was located.

     The taxi came down the road and his smile widened like a kid when, unexpectedly for such an early hour, he saw Sarah Combs on the front porch of her house, wearing the large puffy coat he had bought her last year. But he quickly saw that there was something wrong. There was another guy there with her, tall and preppy with a clean-cut rich boy next door look to him. Deacon’s heart sank and he nearly wrecked when he saw what happened next. The rich kid kissed his girl and then skipped back to a red Mustang parked on the curb.

     Sarah blew him a kiss as the Mustang drove away, driving right past Deacon’s cab. Their eyes would have met, but Mr. Rich Kid had donned a sporty set of sunglasses on his way out of the poor neighborhood. She was going to open the door to head inside when she saw the cab and froze. A look of horror came over her face. Deacon parked across the street, not wanting to park in the same spot in front of the house that he usually did, the same spot that the red Mustang had just been in.

     “Deacon…” Sarah began from across the street as he exited the cab and began walking over. The flirty warmth that he had been accustomed to seeing when she normally spoke to him was gone from her face and her voice. She sounded annoyed to see him.

     “What the fuck Sarah?” Deacon gestured down the street after the Mustang.

     “Calm down, it’s not what you think…”

     “And what do I think? Tell me what I think Sarah, ‘cause I don’t know what I think. I know what I saw though. Is he just dropping you off? You’re out fucking some other guy all night while I’m out trying to make a living?”

     Sarah was red-faced and flustered, but her embarrassment now seemed to turn to frustration. She rolled her eyes and sighed.

     “Oh my gawd. You are so dramatic Deacon. Do you always have to do this?”

     “Do what?” Deacon’s voice raised suddenly and echoed down the street. He was confused, she seemed to be turning the blame his way. No, in this situation simple logic dictated blame in one solid direction here.

     “This!” She motioned towards him angrily with both hands.  

     “If you mean get angry at my girlfriend for cheating on me then no, I don’t always have to do this because this is the first time it’s happened!”

     Sarah rolled her eyes again and an exasperated grunt left her mouth. She reached up and began tying her long black hair into a topknot, as much to give her hands something to do than to keep her hair out of her face. Deacon’s eyes went wide when she didn’t answer, and he continued.

     “At least I think it’s the first time. Is this the first time Sarah? Or just the first time I’ve caught you?”

     “Seriously. I can’t handle this right now. You’re so needy, can’t you ever just go with the flow? If you’re going to be such a drama queen then just go, Deacon!”

     “You can’t handle this? You can’t handle…? Wait, so you’re the victim here? I can’t believe you. I can’t believe you’d do this. Next paycheck I was going to surprise you and put that down payment on that house for us! But how can I now? How could I live with a woman when every day I go out to work, I can’t be sure she won’t be at home fucking the mailman?”

     “Fuck you, Deacon! I’m not a whore! I’m so sick of your bullshit. Y’know, this is awl your fault anyway! If you would have just paid more attention to me, I wouldn’t have been forced to find someone who does!”

     “You mean working all night every night trying to earn enough money so I could actually marry you and provide for you? Not hanging out with my friends because I’m at work all the time pulling double shifts, that’s not paying attention to you? That’s somehow my fault?”

     “You’re so closed up. You never want to talk about your feelings, you just keep everything bottled up inside and I just feel so smothered! I can never talk to you about anything!”

     “You want me to share my emotions more? How about this one…” Deacon held up his hand and extended a single finger. “Fuck you. How’s that for sharing?”

     “Yeah, that’s just like you Deke, respond with anger. You’re such a fucking asshole!” Sarah began crying, and the sight of it froze Deacon in his tracks. He suddenly felt bad for saying that. And the fact that she made him feel bad for her cheating on him made him even more frustrated. She had somehow twisted this into her being the victim.

     “Fuck you Deacon, it’s over!” She ripped off the seven-hundred-dollar engagement ring that he had saved for months for and threw it at him. He did not pick it up. Instead, he threw the bouquet of flowers on the ground next to it.

     Sarah ran inside and slammed the door behind her. The curtains moved in the front window and Deacon saw her father standing in the window, with his arms folded across his chest and shaking his head. Her father had never liked him much anyway. He always thought that Deacon was not good enough for his daughter. Well, fuck him too, Deacon thought.

     A bubbling rage rose inside of Deacon’s guts, and he stomped back to the taxicab, slamming the door shut behind him. Overcome with emotions, he punched the steering wheel and the dashboard several times.

     “Fuck fuck fuck!”

     With the pedal to the floor, the Ford Crown Victoria’s tires squealed, and he left his girlfriend’s street in a cloud of tire smoke.