Pick Me Up

*Marley’s POV*

I shut my car door, having packed everything I needed for the weekend in there. A bag for clothes and toiletries, a bag for my laptop and extra gear, and a bag of other possible necessities. Every weekend in Sydney is different although I do the same job each and every time.

As part of my university degree, I was offered a job working as an assistant sound tech for a small company holding concerts for local bands who wish to make it big. I’ve worked for a number of amazing punk rock bands who I think will become really successful. I’ve also worked some pop artists and cover bands as well. I truly believe Australia has the most talented musicians around.

I had originally planned to go and see my most favourite band, Piece the Veil, this weekend at Sydney’s famous Horden Pavillion, but unfortunately, I could not go. Work was more important. I sold my ticket to my friend Riley. He enjoyed punk music too. Riley decided to buy a ticket for his boyfriend and go together.

I went back upstairs up to my apartment where I made sure all my lights were shut off and my doors were locked. I don’t live with anyone nor do I have any pets, so keeping my house in order wasn’t that hard. Walking back downstairs to my car, I sigh again as I turn on Spotify, playing my daily mix and begin the trek to Sydney, yet again. From Mondays to Thursdays, I live at home and attend Uni, and from Friday to Sunday, I live in hotels, usually working two nights in Sydney. I guess its not a bad life though. I get to do what I’ve always dreamed to do for a living and I have the freedom to do what I want, when I want.

Living alone means that I don’t have anyone hovering over my shoulder to make sure I’ve eaten that day or see if I’m doing okay. No one can tell me not to spend the entire day in bed asleep even though I’d slept for 12 hours the night before. I can go out drinking whenever I want and play my music as loud as I want. I don’t have to worry about anyone else. It’s been me, myself and I for about four years now and I’ve grown to love it. I’m carefree and free, but trapped…

Listening to With Confidence’s new song Here For Nothing, I cruise down the main highway into Sydney. I sing and tap along, enjoying the road to myself. Looking outside, I see rain clouds forming. Rain seemed so beautiful right now. I loved when it rained. I go outside on my balcony every time it rains and just let the rain seemingly wash away all my stresses. Driving whilst raining and listening to my favourite music was the most therapeutic thing in the world other than sitting on the beach watching the waves crash and take away my feelings.

As the rain began to pour, I noticed in the distance a lone figure, standing slumped over. I slowed down, curious as to what the figure was doing out in the middle of nowhere in the pouring rain. The figure turned out to be a man, saturated. Hesitantly, I pulled over. I figured I should show some form of human emotion this month. This month’s special, compassion.

He ran to the driver’s side door. “Hey do you think I could catch a lift with you?” He asked desperately. He stood by my window in a black shirt with black jeans, sopping wet.

Cautiously, I replied. “I can take you to Sydney, that’s it. But first, empty your pockets, lift your shirt above your waist and spin”. I wasn’t letting a stranger into my car without checking for weapons. Where I grew up, the stranger danger game was strong. The man did as told and explained that he only had a smashed up phone.

“Get in you idiot” I laugh. The poor man looked desperate enough. He seemed like a genuine character, not that I’ve ever been good at judging character. I mean, how the hell can I judge who someone is without knowing who I am first?

The man got in, a shiver sent down his spine having finally got into my warm car. “You’re not from around here, are you?” I asked curiously.

“Is it that obvious?” he ginned. He told me no and that he was from America. America? What the hell is he doing all the way out here in Australia?

“Right, well American,” I nicknamed him, not knowing his actual name yet, “there are rules for being in my car. One, you do not say anything bad about my music, it’s my car and I listen to what I want. Two, I can take you to Sydney, any further, you find your own way, and three, I don’t feel like dying today, so there’s no raping or murdering me today” I explain sternly. I know my music taste isn’t the most popular but I don’t like when people need to put their two cents in about my music taste. I also really did not feel like dying today.

He smiled politely at me, “That’s okay, I’m only going to Sydney, a hotel there actually, two, I will not judge your music and three, I promise I’m not a rapist or a murderer”.

I paused before finally smiling and taking off into Sydney. “So American, I didn’t get your name?”

“Jaime, and what is the name of my nice blue-haired driver” he snickered having noticed my blue waves tucked within my beanie.

“Marley” I smiled.

Notes

So this is Marley's side of the story. What do you think?

Also, can we please take a moment to appreciate With Con's B-Sides!?!? Here for Nothing, oml has my heart!