Trieste - The Next Chapters - Terminal Berkeley Denizen

This is the second and third chapters of my novella Trieste, now available on Kindle! A tale of sudden and drastic family revelations when a pixie punk shows up to turn the world of punk power couple Miranda and Preston upside down!

This story stars Miranda, the main character of my novel Blood, Skin, and Ink, as well as Preston, the main character of my two novels The Falling Circle and A Long Slow Aftermath. They, along with many other punks in this tale, also have stories in my Skye Wright series.

You can find the first chapter here!

Du Nervst, Du Scheisskopf!

“You’re annoying, you shithead!”
“That’s what it means?” asked Miranda.
“Direct translation.”
“Du nervst, du Scheisskopf.”
“Exactly!”
Molly sat back with her milkshake, quite satisfied with her German teaching skills.
Skye was in the next booth, talking animatedly with one of the German punks who had been invited to the Gilman show by the Jolly Sturms. From what Miranda understood, some of their European friends spoke very little English.
Molly glanced at the other booth. “Skye’s German has gotten really good.”
“It’s still all Greek to me.”
Miranda was impressed with how young Molly still looked. She knew her from her days as the singer for The Bus Stop Hookers, the iconic Bay Area band that took the punk scene by storm with their pornographic songs. Now the singer with the round, youthful face, short spiked black hair, and Buddy Holly glasses was now her bandmate in The Dynamite Chicks. She was also one of the most recognizable members of the band.
Jutta leaned into Molly and they started chattering in German. Miranda sat back, glancing around the late-night burger diner with all of its faux retro decorations. It was crowded with punks from the Gilman show. Half of the crowd had dyed-black hair, while many of the other half had bright and colorful locks; dyed green, blue, fire-engine red, and one particularly noticeable punk with a leopard skin print mohawk.
Most everyone was wearing leather jackets, old army surplus jackets, flight jackets, and denim jackets, usually covered with patches and pins. A number of people in the crowd looked like college students, small groups of people who had been at the show who were just wearing band shirts and didn’t have any of the typical punk affectations that were so common among that tribe.
Most of the crowd looked as if they were in their twenties or thirties, but a gaggle of very young punks who were chattering loudly as they waited in line to order were making Miranda feel her age. They looked as if they were still in high school, as if they were not even old enough to vote yet.
Miranda considered that they perhaps only looked young because she was getting older, even though she was just in her early thirties.
She leaned on the table and let out a long sigh. Her skin seemed to press in on her. She clenched her hands.
“See someone?” asked Skye as she sat down next to Miranda.
“Naw. Just getting a weird… vibe I guess?”
“Somethin’ witchy goin’ on?”
Miranda slumped in her seat and scrunched her shoulders. “Fuck it. I’m just feelin’ sketchy.”
“Maybe you’re just paranoid.”
“There’s no such thing as paranoia!”
Skye leaned in closer to Miranda. “Was it the drunk punks? We’re they plucking your nerves?”
Miranda sat up straight. She was surprised. At Herself.
“No, not really,” said Miranda as she knitted her brow in thought. “It’s weird, early on in my sobriety it would’ve been a problem, seeing all of those drunk dingbats in the club. It would’ve gotten to me.”
Skye sat back. “You’ve got a sobriety birthday coming up, right?”
“Three years, yeah.”
“Y’see? You’re gettin’ in a groove. You’re getting along with the clean and sober life.”
“I guess so. But still, something about this night seemed off, and I don’t know what the hell it could be.”
Skye sat back and looked around. “Sometimes my junky instincts clue me in on bullshit I’d rather not know about.”
Miranda reached around and adjusted her waist-length ponytail as she looked around the crowd again. So many people from the club had shown up that people started congregating in the diner’s lobby. Miranda stood up when she saw Gail Burp, the tall and pale singer whose solo act was going viral. She was also Molly’s wife.
The crowd of leather jackets, patch jackets, and battle vests grew large enough that the restaurant staff opened a small side dining room that had been cordoned off. Miranda’s attempt to talk to Gail was foiled by fawning fans and fellow musicians who had gotten to her first.
“Trying to get Gail’s autograph?”
Miranda turned around. It was Preston.
“I couldn’t find you in this fucked up crowd,” said Miranda.
“No shit. This is like the show part two. There’s at least a dozen punks smokin’ in the parking lot.”
Gust walked up and threw an arm around Preston. “Hey, me n’ Miranda caught someone checkin’ you out.”
“Sure you did,” snarked Preston.
“No, really! She was lookin’ at you like you were a forty ouncer!”
“No, she wasn’t. Who would do that?”
“Don’t be so down on yourself there, stud muffin!” said Gust as she poked Preston in the chest.
“Miranda, she just poked me on the nipple.”
“I suppose I need to be worried about you,” said Miranda as she narrowed her eyes. “Gawkers and nipple pokers comin’ after you.”
Gust threw her arms around Preston. “Don’t worry, studly! I’ll protect you!”
“But who will protect me from you?” asked Preston who then looked at Miranda.
“Sorry! I can’t get involved at this time,” smiled Miranda as Gust’s antics helped her tension subside.

~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~

     Miranda brought the iPad closer to her face. She was reading an email from a Miss Von FluffenTetas, an email that, at first, she thought was some sort of pornographic advertisement that had snuck past her spam filter. She realized it was an old work friend getting in touch with her about her new burlesque show.
     She was at Butt Fork Studios, the legendary alt-music recording studio that her guitarist and band leader Skye had managed to buy, an event that had taken her and just about everyone else by complete surprise. They had spent so many years as poor, besotted punks scratching out a living in the concrete jungle that the idea that anyone she personally knew could own an actual business, especially one that was doing so well, was alien to her.
     She was sitting at Skye’s desk, as she did not have her own spot to work at in the Butt Fork offices, despite her going by there frequently enough to feel like she was one of the employees.
     Miranda was not sure why, but she was concerned that someone might be reading over her shoulder. Her band manager and Butt Fork’s studio director Tandasil was always darting in and out, as well as Tandasil’s dynamo assistant Colleen, the only woman Miranda had ever met who seemed as if she could not get enough work.
     “Whatcha doin’?” asked Skye as she walked up.
     Miranda held up her iPad. “Got an email from an old work buddy of mine. She’s putting on a punk burlesque show.”
     “Yeah? She tryin’ to get you into the show?”
     “Yep!”
     “Really? I was just kidding.”
     “She’s trying to get me back into the strippin’ biz. I mean, the burlesque stuff. Not the full-on nudie act.”
     “I wonder how that would play, you waving your cruise missiles around in pasties now that you’re like, a kinda big deal in the music scene.”
     Miranda waved a hand at Skye. “I don’t look as good naked now as I used to.”
     “Like every punk in the scene wouldn’t crash through the doors to see you nakey.”
     “Blah. My days of takin’ off my clothes for money are over.”
     “We can at least go check her show out.”
     “Maybe you should go dance for her.”
     Skye could not hold back a laugh. “Me? Who the hell would want to see me take my clothes off?”
     “Take your clothes off?”
     They both turned around. Neither one of them having seen Molly come into the office.
     “Someone’s trying to lure Miranda back into stripping,” said Skye.
     “Hell yeah!” smiled Molly. “Lemme’ go grab some tip money!”
     “Any chance I could get my workplace back?” asked Skye as she leaned on her desk.
     “Sure,” said Miranda as she stood up.
     Skye sat down and opened her laptop. “With the way things are going we’re gonna need more office space, including non-designated work stations.”
     “Jesus,” said Molly. “Now you’re really starting to talk like a corporate clone.”
     “If Tandasil and Colleen had their way they’d be calling me the CEO.”
     “Uch!” winced Miranda.
     Molly leaned on the desk and looked right at Skye. “You’re coming to Hat Confusion tonight, aren’t you?”
     “Are you kidding? I wouldn’t miss it for all the onion rings at Nathan’s!” Skye looked at Miranda. “I know you’re gonna be there.”
     “I can’t not support my man,” stated Miranda emphatically.