Playlist - 11. Track 11) Feels Alright - The Nude Party

March 11th, 6:36PM

Naveen said no.

So the two smoked a bowl.

The early-March sunset had already passed by the time Sebastian had convinced Naveen to join him in his idea of a relaxing activity. Well, weed usually was Sebastian’s solution for “relaxing,” but there was this random urge to offer something he hadn’t done in a long time filling his lungs just after Naveen broke down in front of him— he coughed it up like poisonous fluid: “Let me take you to the beach.”

Now, there was no denying that the beach was a tourist trap. The very overgrowth choking out what was left of the North Hollywood area, the scourge that pushed the Armenians into pockets within his own streets of Burbank, tourists were everywhere in Los Angeles but nowhere did they love more than the beaches (well, besides Disney World, maybe).

Judging by the sweat soaking his skin and pouring through his loose running clothes, Naveen seemed to have run the entire perimeter of the metropolitan area, Santa Ana to Santa Monica. Yet, much to Sebastian’s surprise, Naveen put up no resistance to a trip to the shore.

However, his roommate didn’t seem to be willing to say much in the long car ride there. At least that was characteristic of him. Still, the fiery outburst waved over his aura like television static, keeping the hairs on Sebastian’s arms on end as he kept his grip tight on the steering wheel. Sebastian had to fill the silence.

“I cut it off with Miles,” he admitted. The necessity of keeping Miles away from his life… the complicated confusion Sebastian felt about him… the underlying envy… it was impeding his work. He remembered what Miles’s friend Kareem had advised…

Don’t chase after people you want to be.

…who did Sebastian want to be? Was that the story unfolding?

Naveen didn’t react much at the mention of Miles. His gaze was lazy, looking through the city as its lights slowly woke up in the last falling hints of sun. However, he did slightly turn his head more towards Sebastian. At least, so Sebastian thought; eyes on the road and all that.

“Like, I wasn’t dating him. He was one of my clients,” Sebastian went on, nervously. Then he muttered, “You know, I just realized how much I say ‘client’ makes me sound like a sex worker.”

Naveen just gave a mildly amused, “Hmph.”

This frayed Sebastian’s nerves further. What the fuck was going on with his fri- roommate? His roommate.

“Yeah. I-It’s a bad idea to have gotten friendly with the people I… produce for.” Sebastian’s squirrely tone didn’t even convince himself. For a brief moment, things between Miles and him felt alright.

Naveen only offered an indignant shuffle of his seating, eyes still dreadful and longing out the city bleeding by. He didn’t believe Sebastian either.

He kept speaking. “This past week has been one bad decision after the next. I can’t—”

“Dude! Can we just sit in fucking silence for a second?” Naveen hollered. His whole body stiffened, and his hands clutched at either side of his face like he had on a huge set of invisible headphones.

The wind knocked out of Sebastian’s stomach. Thank god he was already stopped at a red light, or else he probably would have instinctively slammed his foot on the brakes.

Naveen didn’t apologize, but he let out a long, cooling breath, as if to try and alleviate the heat he had just riled up between them.

The rest of the car ride was, indeed, silent.

However, it was Naveen who broke the hush, not Sebastian cracking from the pressure.

It was when Sebastian had pulled into the first parking space he could find. The universe blessed him with a yellow-curb spot not too far from the beach. He would have been happy to pay for parking tonight, though, in fear of another outburst from Naveen.

Instead of a shout, though, Naveen offered a muttered, “I’m sorry.” It was the apology of an embarrassed child: honest, if a bit untrained.

The two weren’t too far from Venice Beach. Though palm trees were all over the Los Angeles area, something about the ones in Venice Beach felt plastic. They appeared especially manicured, just for the approval of out-of-towners on their momentary sojourns through the city.

“It’s okay,” Sebastian said. “I was only talking so much because…” His voice trailed off, unsure of how to finish the sentence. Or maybe just too afraid to.

Naveen kicked a loose pavement rock absentmindedly. “Work’s kicking my ass. My family’s kicking my ass. My girlfriend’s kicking my ass. Um. Metaphorically.”

Oh, Naveen was just freely handing out the Cliff Notes, now, huh?

The two didn’t exactly look “beach ready” for the day. Naveen was still in his highlighter running ensemble, and Sebastian hadn’t changed either. Blue jeans and a cuffed t-shirt weren’t exactly clothes meant for the shoreline.

He didn’t really want to swim, though. Swimming was more Stef’s thing. Sebastian was always happy chilling out on the sand, while Dad got them overpriced street food. Mom would have rolled her eyes about the cost, or about the effects on their health, and yet would have insisted on sneaking bites of food from one of them anyway. Skateboarders would roll by on the winding walking trail just feet behind Sebastian. Gulls screeched overhead. On the warmest summer days, Mom would take Sebastian to the beach playground; he would dance in the water sprinklers like a fairy and Mom would cheer him on. She really had the truest smile, when she chose to allow herself one.

“So uh, what now?” Naveen grunted.

Suddenly, they were standing on the ocean walk front. A handful of teenagers were playing at one of the volleyball courts. A guy pulled up one of the girls on his team by her waist, and she cackled giddily, hardly putting up a fight.

“Shit,” Sebastian breathed, “Sorry, I was spaced out.”

Though, it was then at the moment that Sebastian had absolutely no idea what to do next. In fact, he hadn’t really understood why he was drawn to the beach for the first time in years; it certainly wasn’t the ocean, as previously established. It just sort of felt… right.

Plus, the actual beach was dotted with half-drunk randoms. They squawked along the sand in plastic flip flops and sunscreen on their noses. Lately, teenagers would go up with their phones and ask vapid interview questions to beach goers to try and become TikTok famous; Sebastian was pretty sure some people standing under a palm tree were enduring one of them now.

Back when Sebastian was a kid, Dad would call these random people gaviotas— which apparently was Spanish for “seagulls”— just creatures prowling for a treat, mooching on what the actual residents here had. Dad wouldn’t really lament their presence, though; gaviotas, too, were just a fact of life in Los Angeles.

An idea sparked inside Sebastian. “You hungry?”

“...I could eat,” responded Naveen.

It bugged Sebastian that he didn’t know what Naveen needed, but he could offer him some good food in the meantime. They started walking along the path before the shore.

Perhaps Hinano Cafe, a well-known streetside burger shack by the beach, was equally as “gaviota-like” as wandering around the beach, but it never felt like it. Dad would never let it feel like that.

Naveen squinted at the shack’s name, printed in a comic font made of bamboo shapes. “World famous?” he questioned, looking at the teal words tagged on by the sign’s side.

“Yeah,” Sebastian chuckled. “More importantly, Jim Morrison loved this place.”

Naveen furrowed his eyebrows.

“Th-The guy from The Doors,” Sebastian elaborated with a rush of heat swelling in his face. He needed to break that habit of being such a music nerd, like anyone really cared about that stuff these days. Clearly, he was gonna drive a wedge deeper between himself and Naveen if he kept that up.

They weren’t waiting long to get in, fortunately.

Even more fortunate for them, there were two seats open at the bar.

The interior of the Hinano Cafe looked very much like what any average shorefront bar would be. A half-dozen fans sputtered on the ceiling, with rainbow string lights weaving between them. Neon signs for various beers lined the wood-panel walls. On the floor, sand swept in and cemented itself to the ground in great swirls and stripes. “Rockaway Beach” by the Ramones wailed from a speaker Sebastian couldn’t locate. A couple of gently-scratched pool tables were set in the back.

Naveen looked around warily. He clearly was walking on the balls of his feet, as if the entire floor beneath was covered by a sticky soda spill.

“What can I get ya?” a voice asked.

It was the bartender. He was a short, late-20-or-early-30s guy with straight brown hair and pronounced lips. Sebastian felt another wave of red flush through his cheeks; he was handsome, if maybe a few years older than the guys that normally caught Sebastian’s eye.

“Start with two Modelos?” Naveen requested, with a patient turn of his head to Sebastian.

“U-uh. Yeah. I don’t mind,” he lied. In truth, if he drank beer, he was normally a Miller Lite or PBR person.

The bartender gently slapped the bar and eagerly said, “I got you.”

Naveen took a seat at the bar. His whole body visibly relaxed into the stool. With an elbow on top of the bar, he put his attention half-toward Sebastian and half-toward a few business bros claiming one of the pool tables. The glow of the bar lights soaked his warm skin, and, for the first time today, Sebastian could see Naveen was… at least somewhat… at peace. He even tapped his foot to the gentle beach rock music now playing through the bar.

When the bartender returned, two bottles of Modelo and a pair of laminated menus came with him. “You guys want some food, too, yeah?” he asked as if he were genuinely interested.

“Ha, yeah. I haven’t been here before, so…” Naveen responded, already scanning his eyes down the menu.

Sebastian took a sip of the beer and immediately regretted it.

“Don’t like it?” the bartender pressed.

Sebastian’s eyes fluttered. Shit. He was so bad at hiding his emotions. But, yeah, Modelo really wasn’t his drink of choice.

“Tell you what,” the handsome man continued, not even waiting for a response from Sebastian, “You figure out what you want to eat while I,” and he swiped Sebastian’s beer bottle from the counter, “fix this for you.”

Though he wasn’t going to tell him or Naveen it, Sebastian already knew exactly what wanted, the same as usual, a plain ol’ chili dog. Though, the last time he went to Hinano Cafe it was probably in college, so that immediately made him question if he could consider that a “usual” anymore.

Naveen nodded to himself.

“What’re you getting?” Sebastian asked.

“Tuna melt.”

“Ah. They’re good.”

Their conversation fizzled out, so they people-watched about the bar. A millennial with miscellaneous tattoos lining both of her pale legs seemed to be trying desperately to keep the attention of a rather bored (or just boring) man seated across from her. A defeated looking man stared aimlessly up at a ceiling directly above him.

Naveen glugged down his beer with a slightly-quicker-than-normal pace.

A clink on the counter behind them broke Sebastian out of his spell.

The bartender had returned with a glass full of lager. A wedge of lime sat on the top of the glass, with red flakes peppered all around the rim. It looked like something Dad would order.

“I refuse to let beer go to waste,” the bartender slyly explained, “but you know this is definitely a better way to enjoy Mexican lager.”

“Um, thank you?” Sebastian returned.

They both ordered dinner.

“Nice choices, both of you,” the bartender affirmed. Not that his opinion really mattered. “My name’s Ezra, if you need anything else, lemme know.”

“Like the poet,” Sebastian smiled. He immediately caught his tongue.

Both Ezra the bartender and Naveen eyed Sebastian, though… they seemed to be doing it more out of genuine curiosity than scrutiny (thank god).

“Ezra Pound. He was a poet… er, among other things.” Sebastian escaped by taking his first sip of the drink the bartender prepared.

Well, damn. The beer was definitely better like that. The squeeze of lime and the spicy-sweetness of the flakes around the rim made it… bearable. “Good” might not have been quite the word Sebastian would use but bearable nevertheless…

“This is good!” he wound up saying anyway.

Well, keyword: might.

Ezra let out an amused snort. “‘Course it is. Y’know, most people go for the disgraced actor rather than, uh, a poet.”

“You know a lot of names, Sebastian,” Naveen commented with a swig of his bottle, like it was an emphatic period to the end of his sentence.

“Hey, Jim Morrison is a music legend,” defended Sebastian.

“He is,” Ezra cheered. “You were talking about how he used to make this place one of his regular haunts?”

“Well. Yes.”

“The Doors’re good,” Ezra shrugged. “Good on you for keeping the torch going.”

Ezra then sauntered off.

A gentle breath escaped from Naveen’s lips. He returned to his position leaning against the bar and facing slightly away from Sebastian, but he chimed, “So you come here often?”

“Nah. Well, I mean. I used to. I dunno. It just felt like it was right to come here tonight.”

“Yeah… this is nice, to be honest, even with all the noise outside.”

“Oh, yeah, my Dad always would talk about the people on the beach when we visited as kids.”

Naveen tightened his shoulders.

Right. Father was sort of a sore subject for Naveen.

“S-sorry,” Sebastian immediately said.

“For what?” Naveen snipped. Flatly, he offered, “So my dad’s dead. So what?” then chugged the last of his beer.

Just as Sebastian was about to jest that he, too, didn’t know his own father anymore, his vision reeled. It all hit him. Right. That all was about to change. Sebastian was going to meet his dad for the first time in over a decade.

He put a hand to his forehead to stable himself.

“You alright?” Naveen questioned.

“Yeah, yeah. It just… hit me,” Sebastian said. “So I haven’t seen my dad since I was like nine. But uh… I may meet him soon. Well, re-meet him.”

Naveen’s gruff exterior softened. Actually, the way his eyes fired up made it look more like he was suddenly a lot more invested in this conversation. “Oh shit.”

“I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Sebastian apologized.

“No, no. All good. That is heavy. But sounds like you should go.”

“...I don’t know. I kinda… wrote him off as a memory until this past year.”

“Well, memories are all I have left of mine,” Naveen commented and consequently faltered. “I mean. I should not make you feel guilty. I just would leap at the opportunity to have the same chance, you know.”

Sebastian did feel a bit guilty now. But Naveen was right. Furthermore, it would be a pretty good story regardless of how it turned out, wouldn’t it? Shit that normally only happened in the movies was laying itself at his doorstep.

They sat in silence. Yet, it seemed like it was Naveen who was now uncomfortable with it instead of Sebastian, as he clumsily blurted out, “Dad had ALS.”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow. “...The shit everyone was dumping water on themselves for?” He faintly remembered looping videos of a few hot celebrities throwing buckets of ice water on themselves to try and catch glimpses of their bodies through wet t-shirts.

“Yeah,” Naveen responded. “Gets you quick. Died two years after his diagnosis.” No matter how empty his tone was, Sebastian heard exactly how Naveen felt about it. Anguish. Rage.

“I’m sorry, Naveen. That’s awful,” Sebastian supplied.

“Yes, but that’s life.”

Sebastian blinked and teased, “Well, now you sound like my dad.”

“Yo yo!” came from behind them. Ezra the bartender returned, with two paper trays, one in each hand, held slightly over his head. “Dinner’s ready.”

When he placed the trays in front of them, Ezra lingered around for an uncomfortable moment.

Naveen paused, mouth open just about to take his first bite of his tuna melt. “Um… ‘sup?” he asked the bartender.

“You a music guy?” Ezra pressed with a curious eye.

Sebastian glanced at Naveen. Then, he realized Ezra was talking not to his roommate but to him.

He gulped his bite of the chili dog he was scarfing down. “Uh, yeah.”

The bartender smirked confidently. “Haha, yeah, I knew it. There’s a show at a place further down the shore in a few days.” He pulled out a picture on his phone, a digital poster for a concert. The band’s name was “Sheldon.” What a horrible name.

Naveen peered at it then glanced up at Ezra. “Oh. I know that band,” he stated. “They keep hounding the radio stations to play their stuff. Ten calls a day I swear.”

Ezra abashedly replied, “Yeah, that’s probably my buddy Mikey. Dude’s relentless.” He rubbed the back of his head and, oh! Hello there, biceps. And a tattoo, damn. That spurred something inside Sebastian.

“I can swing by,” Sebastian agreed.

“Sweet,” he said. “And yeah, you can bring your little boyfriend, too,” he added, with a jerk of his head to Naveen.

“Uhp- He’s not- We’re not dating!” Sebastian stammered. He glanced at his roommate, just to make sure he wasn’t embarrassing him. Naveen just shrugged indifferently.

“Either way. Catch you two then,” the quirky bartender, now halfway gone from the bar, called over his shoulder.

Once more alone, the two men began to eat. The chili dog was just as good as Sebastian remembered it: rich in spices with the actual hot dog part slightly charred. As a kid, he’d never been to a barbecue or a cookout, so beach food was about as good of a substitute for grilling food as he’d ever gotten. Even if it was only the beginning of spring, Sebastian felt as free as he was during his grade school summer vacations.

March 11th, 9:31PM

After dinner at the bar, somehow, as twilight became fully enveloped by indigo darkness, Sebastian and Naveen found themselves on the shore. Sebastian wasn’t really sure if heading out by the water was going to be helpful to his roommate, but he wasn’t really sure why he took both of them onto the sand in the first place.

They placed their shoes in an inconspicuous spot not caught by the light of the lamp posts lining the walkway and headed for the beach.

Fortunately, most of the gaviotas had called it a night at this point; all that was left of them were matted footprints in the saturated sand closer to the water.

Sebastian breathed in the smoky, saltiness of the ocean. He wasn’t even sure if he and Naveen were allowed to be there at night, but he didn’t care.

He planted himself where the sand was still loose. Even though it was night, now, there were still subtle hints of warmth left to tickle his feet. His toes were half-burrowed down; he probably was going to find gritty bits of the beach in his shoes for the next nine months, but that was a problem for Future-Sebastian.

Naveen, who had managed to pound down a few more beers at Cafe Hinona, sat dreamily on the sand a few feet in front of Sebastian. His back was aglow in marigold light from the beachfront businesses behind them. Sebastian’s shadow protruded through the bright refractions in the sand. Long thin lines swayed beside his shadow: the palm trees that stretched high behind him. However, as his eyes trailed further down to the water, the more the night soaked the beach. The water looked dim and gray, and the sand a tepid slate color.

Though the overall “whir” of the Los Angeles nightlife still buzzed around, Naveen and Sebastian had happened upon a spot where they could actually hear the waves roll onto the beach. The tide was soft this evening, stretching itself long and thin up the shore, before eventually retracting itself back into the sea. Sebastian’s breathing settled into the rhythm of each whooshing wave. Time fell away, each minute pulled out to the ocean as quickly as they came by.

There was this strange sensation, however: a scouring feeling inside of himself. It was like his mind was trying to prompt him to list all the issues he needed to address:

• Seizing his sexuality.

• Meeting his father.

• Calling Mayson to keep his income steady.

And yet a second later, the script of his life blew away with the faint breeze sweeping across the sand, leaving his brain-list blank.

Naveen picked himself up, brushing a layer of sand off his behind, and glanced at Sebastian. He said, “I am gonna stand by the sea, if that’s alright.”

“You’re gonna have to walk back to the car in wet socks,” Sebastian cautioned.

“That is the price I will have to pay,” Naveen replied. He gave Sebastian a respectful head-nod and then uttered, “Thanks. I think I needed this.”

His roommate took up a jogging pace to the water, getting smaller as he went further away.

Perhaps the reason why things felt so right tonight was the sensation of feeling so outside of everything. Those problems that needed addressing didn’t have to follow Sebastian to this impromptu beach trip.

Perhaps, too, this was what Naveen needed to feel, what Naveen thanked Sebastian for. That must have been why he so evidently unfurled when he finally settled at the bar; he was getting time away from all of his troubles.

Wait, so was this what it was like to relax?

Naveen only went to where the water was maybe toe-deep. Though much of the nightlife light didn’t reach that far, Sebastian could still make out Naveen’s silhouette, stretching out his arms like he was offering the ocean a big hug.

He soon returned and jabbed a finger back to the mainland. “Should probably get back, right? You have work tomorrow?”

Sebastian sighed, “Well, um, Miles was my big client. I had him in for Tuesday, but now…” He didn’t feel like finishing the sentence. It felt better to keep at least one person in his life outside of his work struggles.

“Oh,” said Naveen. “Either way, I must get to work in the morning. Unfortunately.”

On any other day, Sebastian would have felt prompted to ask more about the job that was apparently kicking his roommate’s ass. That was what normally would pan out on television. Yet, tonight, it felt correct to not know the ins and outs of Naveen’s worries; it felt better to just be there, instead.

Their trek back took a few minutes longer than expected. Sebastian swore he did not park that far away from the beach, but nevertheless, it was past 10 o’ clock once he had his beat up car in sight.

What also caught his sight, however, was a white sign planted just a foot away from where he parked. He hadn’t noticed it the first time: a “for sale” beachfront real estate sign. The realtor under the “for sale” text had an artificial smile on. Her jaw was sharp, her nose angular and distinguished, her eyes distant. Her static demeanor seemed paradoxically both aloof and approachable.

Naveen stood by the passenger door and immediately yawned. “Ready to go?”

Sebastian swallowed a dry breath. “Uh, yeah. Let’s go,” he stammered.

The salty breeze wafted inside the car. In fact, it followed them along the entire drive back to the apartment: patient and pacific.