Trying to Establish Myself as a Young Man

    Fiction and Drama

    Angelo Hernandez Sias

    It’s college radio, I said, exposure

    Yadi and I have agreed: friends. Last night post-Brujx she held me a birthday party, surprise! Crew left and we should have said good night. Instead we walked through Riverside. Cool quiet night. A man asleep on the slide. Swing set wet. Puddles lamplit. She stopped me, hugged me. Just like in my dream. I squeezed round her waist, bare. Felt her heart. She buried her face in my shoulder. When we came apart she was bleeding. Nose ring.


    Obie spentthenight. Yadi lent me her mattress topper and some blankets, and I set a pallet for him on the floor. We talked like a middle school sleepover. He lives in a building with a sleek website. I had to fill out an application, he said. I thought I would be living with young professionals. It was a quad with four bums. Literal bums, bro. I thought I would be with high-quality people.


    Meant to go with Yadi for groceries, overslept. Lunch with Obie. What kind of man are you, he said, looking at my Harvest Bowl. What’s with you and Yadi. Saw him off, made a beat, worked on submission (Felton). Dear Committee, I wrote, at Unmasking Historical Legacies I will further develop a creative-critical praxis.

    In the evening I FaceTimed Papa. No answer. Deja FaceTimed. Hot there too. She glugged from a large jug of tea. Said she went shopping with her parents today. They want her to have things in Chicago. Rubber spatulas, nonstick pans, eggware. For themselves they bought a stair-climbing trolley dolly. Wheels like fidget spinners. It won’t be used, she said.


    Re: recurring phone charges

    Hello Julio,

    We have identified several lines which we believe remain essential (green), though the status of some lines remains unknown (yellow). The attachment lists telephone charges billed to the station. Please review the cells and let me know which lines may be cut. Thank you.

    Best,

    Trent Kramer

    Director of Broadcasting

    PSWhat’s the word on the remote broadcast?

    This electronic message is intended only for the named recipient and may contain information that is confidential or privileged. If you are not the intended recipient, you are hereby notified that any disclosure, copying, distribution, or use of the contents of this message is strictly prohibited. If you have received this message in error or are not the named recipient, please notify us immediately by contacting the sender at the electronic mail address above, and delete and destroy all copies.


    Slept in, hard to get up. Café, read with Yadi. She was wiping tears from her book. Left, 0.5 hours at library. Harvest Bowl, made a beat, worked on submission (Marshall). Walked through park, stepped on pile of burrito, phone with Papa. Your mama’s friends are coming over for dinner, he said, to pretend like they’re my friends too. Ran into Francisco, invited me to Kenneth’s show. After walk, past dark, returned to café alone, worked more on beat. Irina, former classmate, present employee of café, brought me Viennese coffee. So good to see you! she said, what are you working on can I listen here’s my number. FaceTimed Deja before bed. Said she liked the beat. Text from Irina: Can’t wait to listen to your stuff. Could not sleep. Renounce Viennese coffee. Late-night dumplings, organic Cup of Calm in lounge with Yadi, talked music. Found out she went on same walk at same time this afternoon, parallel, ahead.


    Chicken apple almond sweet potato goat cheese rice balsamic kale consumed in the student center, where someone disgraced Nocturne in B-flat minor, Op. 9, No. 1, on the lounge piano. Someone here is disrespecting you, I texted Deja, along with a recording. No reply. Ah, she would have said, in my absence they dethrone me. Rest assured, I shall return with a vengeance.

    Yadi’s room: wine and bachata with Brujx crew before Kenneth’s show. Jackson, bashful as usual, sat cross-legged on Yadi’s braided cotton rug and drank from a bottle. Francisco, bachata god, danced with Sara asexually, or parodically sexually, liberated by his gayness. Sara fretted about last night, when she accidentally swore on air, then crawled under the board and curled into a fetal ball. I stood organically by Yadi, sipping and saying I would like to delete my “discography” and renounce music. Angst o’clock, she said removing the drink from my hand and taking my hand in hers and pulling. Do not delete your music OK it is an inspiration to some of us you have no right. And it’s just a dance chamaco but suit yourself. Oh all right, I said. It felt good to touch her waist again, warm and swaying under my palm. Not so stiff, she said squeezing the back of my neck. I’ve been taking lessons in Dominican masculinity from Francisco but I’m a slow learner, I said, forgive me. Dominican men don’t ask forgiveness, she said. We must be reading different Junots, I said. You’re still reading Junot, she said. She pinched my nose and set her head on my shoulder for a slow song, like she did for the long train to Kenneth’s show. When we got off the lower sky was visible in the absence of high rise.

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