Sex, Money, and Fame - 3. Chapter 3- Wanna Bleed

Celia swings the police office door open, stomping out. Caroline silently follows. They get in the car. Neither says anything.

Celia throws Caroline's belongings at her. Caroline digs through to find her phone. Several missed calls and texts, but one sticks out. A text from Desdemona.

ARE YOU OKAY?

Caroline smiles.

***

Caroline confidently strolls through the walls of the uptight Beverly Hills store. Desdemona uncomfortably follows her. Keeping her hands in her pockets.

"Why are we here?"

"To buy clothes?" Caroline chuckles.

Desdemona feels the salespeople staring daggers at her.

"So what's the deal with you and Darla?" Caroline asks.

"She is cool to hang with." Desdemona replies, trying to ignore the looks, " The sex is great. But we don't label things."

"Is she your usual type?" Caroline asks looking through a rack.

"I don't know if I really have much of a type, " Desdemona says, not touching anything. "But my childhood crush was Daphne from Scooby-Doo."

Caroline smirks picking through the racks, "So you like pretty, but dumb redheads?"

"Hey Daphne wasn't dumb and neither is Darla," Desdemona turns to her. "Plus that sexy southern accent is the icing on the cake." Desdemona clears her throat. "Can we talk about music?"

"Okay, do you write the music or the lyrics first?"

"Lyrics. Words are the most important."

"That's my problem, I can't think of words," Caroline says.

"That's the problem, you're thinking too much."

Desdemona moves closer to Caroline.

"You got to feel the words deep down in your darkest parts," Desdemona said. "Great writing. Great words. Comes from your ugly side. Writing isn't heaven it's hell. It doesn't come, god, great music, especially great rock and roll comes from the devil. You gotta cut yourself and let yourself bleed on the page."

"You sound like my dad," Caroline says.

"Oh really?" Desdemona smirks, not making eye contact with anyone else in the store.

"Yea, he would say 'you must bleed for art'. " Caroline says, "I wanna bleed but...I don't know what I can...bleed about." Caroline holds a see-through black mesh top. "Do you think I would look sexy in this?"

"I'm so not answering that." Desdemona says, now noticing the saleswomen whispering to each other, "How was getting arrested?"

"What?"

"You heard me." Desdemona says, "Did you think getting arrested would cool like in the movies, huh?"

Caroline brushes her brown hair out of her face, "It was actually fucking scary."

"Yea, I remember when I was arrested. But at least you got bail."

Desdemona sees, out of the corner of her eye a saleswoman slowly stepping towards them. She calms her breath.

"But now Celia is really on my ass," Caroline puts the top back. "She pretends to pay attention to me, but...like only the bad things. You know, like I have to do something dramatic for her to listen. And like people look at me...but no one actually cares." Caroline takes a breath, "That sounds super dark huh?"

"Words have no power to impress the mind without the exquisite horror of their reality."

"That's good," Caroline says finding another top.

"That's Poe."

"How do you know all this literary stuff?" Caroline asks.

"What? I can't be smart?" Desdemona bites.

Caroline stares at her and blinks, "No. I mean Yes. I...I guess I mean, when did you get into it?"

Desdemona softens her stare and releases a breath. Maybe she is a little over sensitive.

The saleswoman steps in front of Desdemona, "May I help you?"

Desdemona clears her throat, "Listen, I'm not going to steal anything. I haven't even touched anything."

"What?" Caroline gasps, looking up.

"Then you wouldn't mind, if we search you then," The saleswoman says, not even taking one step back.

Caroline steps in between them, "What the fuck? She doesn't need to be searched. Do you know who she is?"

"Caroline." Desdemona demands, "Shut up."

The saleswoman waves to a security guard. Desdemona slowly takes out her keys, wallet, and phone out of her pockets, giving them to Caroline. Then puts her hands up.

"Why are you letting this happen?" Caroline whispers.

"Don't make this worse," Desdemona whispers back.

Desdemona closes her eyes as the security guard pats down her body. He shakes his head. The saleswoman takes a step back. Desdemona grabs her belongings and stomps out. Caroline flips them the bird and then storms out too.

***

Desdemona walks into her apartment. Caroline follows her in. She sees the two men cuddling on the couch but doesn't address them.

"What was that?" Caroline asks.

Desdemona throws her kitchen trash can on the floor and kicks it. The two men jump up. Desdemona stops and catches her breath. She looks up the motions to them.

"Riley and Justin, meet Caroline." She turns to Caroline, "Caroline, meet Riley and Justin, my friends from Texas."

Riley and Justin wave to Caroline but then turn back to Desdemona.

"What happened?" Riley asks.

"I got searched," She bites and kicks the trash can again.

"Shit," Justin says.

"But why?" Caroline addresses the room, "Why would they be allowed to do that?"

"Because." Riley says, "That's what happens to people who...look like us."

Caroline just then realized what they were talking about.

"...Oh."

"Yea," Desdemona yelled, kicking the trash can, "Don't matter how many records I sell. Don't matter how much money I make. I'll always be ghetto trash." Desdemona goes to the fridge and grabs some water. She paces around the kitchen and twirls her fingers in the air.

"I wanna bleed." She sings loudly, "Wanna scream. I'm afraid this world won't. Change. No more."

"In the street." Caroline says, "I scream and bleed. Everyone looks up to see. But nobody helps me."

"Love that," Desdemona gulps her water.

Their eyes locked and suddenly it was as if they were reading each other's minds.

We need to write this shit down.

They both run to Desdemona's bedroom. Desdemona grabs her notebook. Caroline grabs a pen.

"I wanna bleed." Caroline nods to the beat, "I wanna scream. I'm afraid this world won't. Change. No more."

"In the street." Desdemona follows along as she writes, "I scream and bleed. Everyone looks up to see. But nobody helps me."