Saturday, May 6, 2017

sam and willow: meet willow 1

she shares an apartment with her (very soon-to-be ex-) boyfriend on unfortunate avenue in a crumbhole neighborhood in the san fernando valley, southern california.

she's twenty-something. a bartender. a guitar player. can sing. linda ronstadt earlier influence via grandmother who raised her, basically. band just broke up. tattoos, a couple piercings. grew up in chula vista. born in brownsville but left early. military father now in prison. mother dead, heroin overdose. but more backstory later.

we meet her on the bus, gets off on ventura, runs to the stop to catch another headed north. (van nuys blvd.)

walking to her apartment. graffiti. rap too loud from a low-rider rolling by, driver and occupants giving our girl a good going-over on their way.

she buzzes open the doors to her apartment complex.

FROM ABOVE as she walks by the pool toward the exterior stairway that climbs to the upper row of row of lower-shelf apartments. a mother is asleep on a chaise near the pool while her toddler wanders precariously near the deep end. fashion magazine and cell phone on a small table. soda can on its side, contents freshly spilt.

willow opens and closes the metal gate to the pool ares, loud, purposeful, successfully rousing the woman, groggy until she sees the child attempting to climb the steps to the diving board, at which point she is up and on the child in a hurry, then shamefully exchanging looks with willow, who has climbed the stairs and looks down from our earlier from-above pov, fishing the keys from her purse and unlocking the door and entering number 225.

jeans. running shoes. ("in case i have to.") "guitar center" t-shirt. bracelets. ballcap. sunglasses. bag purse.

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