4

Half Moon//Lunar Implications

“– I hope we didn’t ruin your weeks any further with that, let me know after the storm what you all thought about our new friend, Atti–”
Mondo shuts off the radio and spins his chair around to face me. His voice is calm and confident when he speaks, “What’d ya think, Moon? Do I need to send anyone down to Lenny for that asspull?”
“I’m starting to think you enjoy the violence your position grants you more than anything else, Mondo. No, I don’t think that’s necessary. In fact…” the air almost smells sweet, like nectar, as I pause to take a deep breath and relax into my soft chair; a throne in a city that would be nothing without me. “I’ve definitely heard better, but most of the inhabitants of the lower city haven’t, so it works for me, if you know what I mean.”
“You’re telling me that this guy, Atlas? Asshole? Managed to entertain the people enough for you to feel it?”
“I’m afraid so. Might just be a one-off, however, this rain has left people reasonably desperate. I’m not going to waste any effort addressing him, but tell your goons to keep an eye and an ear open, I want to know if he moves up in the world at all.”
“Alright,” Mondo raises his eyebrows and jots something down in a notebook in front of him on his desk. He mumbles under his breath, trying to remember the name.
“Atticus Frank. I don’t hang around you to pick up your slack, pay attention to these things.” I can see Mondo tense his jaw when I say this, but he’s gotten far too comfortable recently. I can’t go letting him think he made it to the top without me.
I can tell he’s thinking hard, his brows furrowing over his deep-set eyes. “Actually, now that you say the name again, it sounds familiar, makes me think of the early days when we had just met. Couldn’t tell you why though.” Mondo scratches at his clean shaven beard before finishing writing the note. He gets up to hand it to someone on the other side of the closed door and mutters something to them before locking them out once again.
“Interesting, let me know if you remember why you suddenly know the name.” I stand and move over to the nearby window.
It’s raining, but that hasn’t prevented the windows in surrounding buildings from being illuminated with technicolor lights or for the music to be any quieter than most nights. I can hardly see the streets below from the highest floor of the skyscraper, but the lights bouncing off the water make it clear that there’s probably an inch or so of flowing rainwater draining down to the canals that make up the lower city. It may be time to make a trip down there one of these days and see what the low lives are up to.
Mondo’s voice comes from behind, “Well, Moony, shall we go find a decent party to join?” He’s got a small mirror in one hand when I turn around, using his other hand to comb back his brown hair and tidy up any stray facial hairs.
“The high rise two buildings to the north, 28th floor. I assume Ms. Holland is singing because it’s packed with the entertained. I am going to change into something more suitable for the evening. Meet me at the skywalk in 20, she’s on intermission for the time being.” I move to the door and speak over my shoulder.
“Accurate as always… see you–” Mondo’s voice cuts off as I enter the hallway and head to the elevator. There’s only one more floor above this one and the top floor button lights up on its own as I enter the lift. One of Mondo’s guards is about to enter the elevator but stops in his tracks when he sees me. I notice a bead of sweat on his bald head as the doors shut him out.
The upper-most level is all mine. As I exit the lift, the air is cool and smells of spices and sweet whiskey. There are no rooms aside from the large, secluded bathroom off to the left, otherwise the floor is one large suite. I leave my shoes at the door and slip on house slippers. A kitchen area to the right is occupied by a young man and woman, beginning to prepare a meal. I turn that direction to address them, “I’m going out for the night, don’t worry about cooking anything, but I’ll take a glass of the red. I’m going to change.”
The boy, an Eastern kid about 18 years old with dark hair falling like curtains over a bandanna, nods curtly and moves to replace ingredients without saying a word. The woman is closer to 30 with no outstanding qualities aside from her cooking skills. She smiles warmly and greets me as she pulls out a pristine bottle of wine from a rack on the back wall.
I move to the opposite side of the suite, towards a large bed and wardrobe. A fitted white suit is perfectly pressed and hanging alone inside the wardrobe, waiting for me. I disregard modesty and change in the main room.
Standing in front of a large mirror, I make sure there are no stray wrinkles in the suit and tidy my dark hair, slicking it back loosely. Spots of glitter rest on my high cheekbones; a part of me just like anyone else has freckles.
“Would you like anything paired with the wine, Mr. Moon?” The woman is making eye contact from across the room as she speaks formally.
“No, that’ll be alright, thank you, Marie. However, make it a martini, actually, there should be olives in the refrigerator.”
“I’m not sure we have any gin, currently.”
“Check again.” I finish tying a royal purple tie around my neck and straighten it into place before walking back to the bar.
Marie has pulled out the gin and is pouring the mixed drink with expertise. I take a seat on a single bar stool as the boy comes out from the large pantry with an olive and strategically places it in the martini glass as Marie finishes pouring and then he slides it across to me.
“Thank you, Jun.” I take a sip and relax my shoulders for a moment. The alcohol is sweet, but the feeling of power coming from across the city is sweeter. “Feel free to make any drink you’d like tonight and take the evening off. Parties and shows are happening in every building on our block, enjoy yourselves.” I finish the drink and promptly stand up to leave.
Back at the elevator door, I remove the house slippers and put on a pair of dress shoes the same shade of purple as my tie. Marie and Jun give curt bows from behind the counter and offer their thanks for the night off. I wave my hand in dismissal and enter the elevator. Once again, the button lights come on without my prompting and the lift smoothly drops down ten floors, where the skywalk is located.
Mondo is waiting calmly in the hallway when I exit the lift. He looks very average, with his brown hair and beard clean cut, only a few grays here and there. It’s hard to tell if it’s his age or stress causing the gray hairs and the wrinkles forming on his forehead. I, on the other hand, probably look younger than I did when we met nearly a decade ago. He cleans up nicely at least; sporting an elegant, deep purple two-piece suit.
Mondo looks smug but doesn’t say anything as we head down the hallway to another door, this one leading outside to an elevated, covered walkway. The rain is loud inside the tunnel-like hall connecting the buildings. There’s a row of dim lights lining the ceiling, every few lights flickering on and off as the electrical currents struggle to persist through the storm. This leaves the tunnel reasonably dark, with the sun having set and the windows clouded by streaks of water. It all culminates into a great time for me, however, as the people of my city can hardly get any work done and want nothing more than to seek Entertainment.
We traverse through the next building and then another skywalk, this one even dimmer than the last, and make it to Jenny’s building. Her club is near the top, so it’s another elevator ride before we arrive at the party.
The halls are packed with partiers, but passing through the crowds is easy for Mondo and me. The crowds part like the Red Sea for the mob boss and myself, but that analogy is dead along with that god. I’m the one in charge here now.
We make it to Jenny’s club as her jazz band is finishing tidying up the stage for their next set. Jenny herself is seated at the nearby bar counter, off to the side of the stage, finishing a drink. I split off from Mondo and approach her while he gets distracted by a handful of audience members speaking to him; most likely some of his witless gang members kissing his ass.
Jenny sees me approaching through the crowd and greets me before I’ve fully arrived at the bar, “Hey there, handsome, glad you could come join me and my friends here for the evening.” She gestures towards the rest of the people in the room, dressed in well-worn dresses and suits as they drink cheap alcohol and talk loudly. Compared to those by the coast, the crowd looks wealthy and clean, but I can smell the mold and dirt that they’ll never be able to wash out quite as well as they would like.
“It’s my pleasure, Jenny. Seems like a great show out tonight, as well. Can I get you another drink before your next set?” The previously occupied chair next to her has promptly become vacant at my approach.
“I’ll gladly take you up on that offer, if you can summon up some decent gin instead of the shitty moonshine they’ve got behind the bar.” Jenny is a heavy-set, black woman in her thirties. A head of thick, curly hair held back with a bandanna. She’s got a big personality that has greatly influenced her success in addition to her impressive voice.
“I can definitely make that happen.” I confidently walk behind the bar, without complaint from the bartenders, and pull out the first bottle of alcohol I see. There are not many options, distillation having become much more difficult in recent decades, but it doesn’t matter for me. The liquid in the bottle is nearly piss colored but comes out clear as I pour it into a fresh glass and slide it towards Jenny.
Jenny winks as she takes a sip, “I’m ever more grateful for your presence, darling.”
“Flirtatious as always, got anything new for me tonight?” I stay behind the bar and pour myself a drink. This time the alcohol pours out the color of amber.
“Well, I didn’t plan on playing anything new just yet, but I’ve got a couple of songs we’ve been working on that I can throw in just for you.”
“That’s what I like to hear, and I’m sure your audience will be enthralled, which is even better for me.” I tip my glass in her direction and she returns the gesture. As our glasses clink together, Mondo advances towards us and takes the seat that had recently been vacated. I pour his usual bourbon and slide it over.
Mondo leans awkwardly on the bar, facing Jenny. “Good evening, Ms. Jenny, and how are you tonight?”
Jenny glances at me, slightly amused, and I roll my eyes in return. She quickly returns Mondo’s gaze to respond, “Oh I’m lovely, Jackson. Glad to see you could show up to an event not hosted by yourself. You know, you should open for me sometime.” She finishes the statement with a smirk, knowing she’s struck a chord.
A shadow falls over his face for a moment before Mondo finds his composure, “I’d be glad to do a show with you, it has been quite some time since we’ve done that, although I’m sure the lineup would be the other way around.”
Jenny chuckles, “I don’t know, Jack, it’s been a while since you’ve performed at all, hasn’t it? Seems you’re better at hosting parties these days instead of actually singing. You might be a little rusty.”
This time when his face falls into a frown he doesn’t correct it and shifts to sit upright, “I’d watch yourself, Ms. Holland, remember who’s in charge around here.”
Before the conversation can take another turn, I clear my throat and address Mondo, “And you could benefit from also remembering who’s really in charge here.” I turn to calmly face Jenny, “and you, dear, best return to the stage, it looks like your band is prepared to begin the next set.”
Jenny finishes her drink and gives us both a charming smile, “Great point, Moony dear. Enjoy the show, boys.” She stands and heads back to the stage, where the crowd is beginning to gather and cheer for her.
I turn to Mondo as the cheers grow louder, drowning out our voices from being heard by anyone else nearby, “She’s right, you know. You’re so caught up in playing mob boss you’re forgetting why I ever worked with you to begin with. The people may fear you, but they do not worship you. They worship me, whether they know it or not, and I need you to keep making sure they do just that. Believe me, if I thought Jenny was capable of doing the dirty work of running this city, I’d drop you like shit into the canals.”
Mondo has dropped his posture and his fingers twitch as he tries, and fails, to maintain eye contact. His nostrils flare as he responds, “Yes sir, I’ll headline as soon as the rain stops, advertise it as a celebration of the monsoon’s end, drop the entrance fee just enough to get more of the low lives to come up…”
I wave my hand to stop his rambling, “Yes whatever, the skies will clear in the morning, but give it one extra day, for the people to get word of the event and make plans. Two nights from now you’ll perform.”
Mondo nods and stands up, taking a breath to recompose himself and then marches over to a man nearby, muttering something into his ear. The man grunts and leaves the room.
I pour myself another drink and move back around the bar to recover my seat. The rest of the bar is vacant, leaving me with a private front row seat. With this end of the bar being near the corner of the stage, I have a clear view of both Jenny Holland and the crowd filling the rest of the room. Most of the crowd doesn’t even look towards the stage as they dance. They don’t care about who’s behind the voice, as long as they’re entertained by the music, drugs, and pheromones. It’s exactly as I like.
Jenny plays a satisfactory set, finishing it with two new songs. Mondo looks over on occasion, unaware of the beads of sweat on his forehead, glinting in the dazzling lights of the club. He avoids approaching me, however, networking with gang members and other A-list entertainers.
Before Jenny’s encore begins, I signal for Mondo’s attention from afar and motion towards the door. He politely ends his conversation and we both gracefully move to the exits nearest each of us to meet in the hallway. We walk quickly and silently as we proceed down to the skywalk in order to beat the crowd that’ll begin pouring out shortly.
He speaks up once we’re in the elevated walkway, “I’ve already secured top musicians to play with me on Thursday night as well as a few bands as openers and fillers. I look forward to proving to you that I’m still on top of the game here.”
“Yes, of course, inspiring. Talk to anyone interesting in the crowds tonight?” I can hear voices moving down the building behind us and push forward to our own high rise.
“Nobody new this evening, not with the storm dissuading anyone from traveling far. A few comments on that shitty comedian we heard earlier on Lenny’s, though.”
“And? What did they have to say?”
“That rapper, Jermaine, thought it was funnier for what it was than for the actual jokes, but he was still impressed. And then a couple of my guys said their families enjoyed it. Musicians have been trending so much, I think people are intrigued by a comedian.”
“Interesting, make sure that the lower city catches news of your upcoming show.”
“I’ll ensure that Lenny announces it and invite him to broadcast parts of the show as well. Just enough to convince people to show up throughout the night.” Mondo holds the final door into our building for me as he says this. By the time we’ve gotten through the second skywalk, I can see a hint of light, glowing in the sky to the east.
“Great, I’m headed up to my floor, then. We’ll speak more later.”
*****
The sun has already peaked and is halfway back down to the horizon by the time I wake up. There’s no reason to be awake while the masses are miserable at their day jobs, it’s draining for me. I dress in a casual, dark gray suit as Jun and Marie are cooking an extravagant meal. The meals may be unnecessary, but I enjoy the luxuries of mortal living.
At a small dining table, Jun places several courses in front of me as I sit. Pastries that can’t be found under any ordinary circumstances; cheesecake topped with fresh fruit and fluffy cream, and eggs poached to perfection. I take a few bites of each, leaving the rest for my attendants to do with as they please.
“Everything to your liking, Mr. Moon?” Marie does not emote as she asks.
“Sensational. Thanks for your hard work, as usual. I may be in and out tonight, don’t get too comfortable.” I wipe my mouth with the towel in my lap and place it back on the table as I take my leave.
Down in the city, the rain has stopped and people have taken to the streets. My presence has no effect on people who have no idea who I am, so I enjoy getting away from Mondo and listening to what the people of Century City are actually talking about. Most of the population seems to like Jenny far more than Mondo, her name often being on the lips of those who enjoy the nightlife, so nearly everyone. She knows how to host a party, if only she could host an entire city. Regardless, Mondo is useful as long as he has control over the entertainment industry and the gangs.
As the sun creeps nearer the horizon, I move towards some of the buildings hosting parties further from the city’s center. I can reap the benefits of all entertainment forms without my physical presence being necessary, so I like to keep an eye on up-and-coming performers as well as the big shows. I’ll spend the night party hopping without Mondo.
The Glass Oceans are performing in a musty building at the edge of Century City, the attendees smelling of cigarette smoke and sweat. Moving inward and upward, I visit a hip-hop club, where Jermaine is performing with a drummer and bassist for an excited crowd. Inside another nightclub, Lenny’s station plays on speakers while a diverse crowd gambles in different card and dice games; drugs and money spread on the tables for collateral. Finally, in the last speakeasy I pay a visit to, soft rock and blues bands cycle through as strippers and sex workers are paid for favors within side booths, not more than a curtain providing any privacy.
The old gods defined sins in a way that resulted in humans giving up many of the more lavish aspects of life. Sacrifice could be considered one of the highest forms of worship, and fear being the strongest motivator of all. However, I think the old gods just wanted to gatekeep luxury and instilling fear and loyalty into their followers was just an extra benefit. I don’t need people to fear me, however, I just need them to worship pleasure, and pleasure comes in many forms, including sinful forms.
*****
It’s Thursday evening and I find myself lounging in Mondo’s chambers as he paces throughout the room, preparing for the night. His attendants are on the floor below, cleaning and setting up the venue. Small side rooms will house extra performers while the primary stage will be for Mondo and his jazz band.
Mondo sits at his desk, pulls a bottle of bourbon out from underneath, and fills two glasses halfway. I reach for the one closest to me as he runs through his set list.
“Do you agree with me starting with ‘When Stars Fall’ tonight?” He’s tapping his pencil on the desk as he speaks, but quits when he notices me staring at the hand.
“Yes that’s alright, everyone knows it well enough to start out the evening. I’m sure whatever you have decided is fine.” I flick a piece of dirt off my white suit and take a swig of the alcohol in my hand. It burns in a way that only Mondo would like.
We take our time finishing our drinks and then do one last mirror check before moving downstairs. A crowd has already accrued, primarily local residents, but heads turn and the room quiets when Mondo arrives on stage.
Mondo’s voice fills the room as he addresses the audience, “Welcome, friends! I’m sure you are all anticipating a great night, and a memorable one it will be! We’re here to celebrate our city’s ability to withstand the end of the world. A silly monsoon like what we just had pales in comparison to what we’ve already withstood, so it’s no wonder we’d come out unbothered!” He pauses to let the crowd holler and cheer. “However! We’re missing a lot of party people, so I’m gonna hand the stage over to some of my friends back here to get things started as people continue to arrive. Give it up for The Streamliners!”
Mondo ducks off the stage and joins me where I’m standing off to the side, behind a rope partition that separates us from the audience. I can see the awkward radio show host, Leonard, on the opposite side of the stage in a similarly roped off section. The man looks nervous and unkempt, frequently looking over his shoulder as he attempts to untangle wires. I lean close to Mondo so he can hear me, “Send someone over to set up that fool’s broadcasting station. And meanwhile I want him pulled aside and given some more appropriate clothing. We can’t have him drawing attention from the stage, looking like a clown.”
“An oversight I should have prepared for, I’ll get right on it.” He turns to pass the message along to the large bald man who was by the elevator a couple of nights ago.
It doesn’t take long for Lenny to disappear into a nearby backroom and be replaced by a woman who adeptly untangles the wires and sets up the radio equipment. Lenny reappears several minutes later and takes a seat in the only chair prepared for him. He’s in a casual burgundy suit that hangs over his small frame with a little too much room. It looks like they tried to do something with his unruly hair, but without luck, as the curls stick out in a way that one would assume he’s been shuffling his feet around on a carpeted floor like a child. Not ideal, but it will have to do. I suppose that is the reputation he holds as the friendly, neighborhood radio show host. There are more professional show hosts here in Century City, but I actually think Mondo made the right choice by choosing someone more well-loved by the entirety of Seatac.
I can see Lenny mouthing something into his personal microphone and I focus my thoughts on the radio waves, tuning out the noise of the room. His voice breaks through in my head as he publicly announces, “We’ve made it all the way to the heart of Century City, folks, where our gracious mob boss, Jackson Mondo, is throwing a party that he himself will be headlining. Now, I can’t stream the whole show for you all, but I can give you pieces and highly suggest you find a way to attend yourself! However, when I’m not streaming music for you, I’ll be trying to get interviews with performers and even audience members. You could be next on the air! You just have to join us at the Monsoon Celebration and find me by the main stage! In the meantime, it looks like The Streamliners are ready to start off the night for us, so tune in now!”
His timing is perfect as he flips a couple of switches, muting his mic and broadcasting the band as the guitarist strums the first chord of the evening. The sounds of the room come flooding back as I shift focus.
Like injecting ecstasy into my veins, I can feel the residents of the entire city turn their attention away from the real world and toward me. Their heartbeats pulse in tune with the music permeating the room and everything glows with a bit more color than before.
Mondo has stepped away to join his band elsewhere and I’m left to enjoy the event in solitude. Movement from Lenny’s corner catches my eye, however, as I observe the room. A young man has appeared outside the rope; a mop of mocha colored curly hair, brown skin, and a suit that’s probably made of more patches than there is original material. He clasps Lenny’s hand over the rope and they laugh about something as Lenny lifts the rope enough for the newcomer to duck under and join him. For a split second, the young man looks in my direction and locks eyes with me. I can see the corner of his mouth twitch upward before he promptly looks away and continues his conversation with Lenny.
In that one fleeting moment, the colors fade back to normal and I get an uneasy feeling, but I won’t let one suspicious kid ruin my evening of euphoria.