Chapter 11
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Jaq
Surprisingly enough, once we cleared the air and got our mutual confessions out the way, the rest of the afternoon with Graham had been a blast. Noir Noise’s music scene was more of the wavelength that I was on, since I at least had an idea of the lineup, but despite that, everyone was off doing their own thing having a good time.
I was happy to see my friends being open to step outside their preferences.
Without the pressure of sex or a date, I learned a lot about Graham and there was no doubt at all that he was a great listener.
He wasn't the kind of person to interrupt.
He let you get all your thoughts out before contributing to the conversation, and that contribution was always well thought out, meaningful, and hardly one-sided.
Most men barely said five words when you asked them a question, or wouldn’t shut up, so he was a nice blend of the two.
In the few short hours, I discovered he was the second born of four and the only boy.
That his most listened to albums were Thriller by Michael Jackson and the Jimi Hendrix experience, Axis Bold as love, and that Māori people were so superstitious, they avoided cutting their hair or nails at night.
He asked me more about my upbringing, and while I didn't share his mixed-race identity, we both shared growing up in a multicultural household. Even after our failed hookup, we got along so well that I actually looked forward to the next time we’d get together just to talk.
My gawd, was I developing a crush on him? Who even had those anymore?
Regrouping, we'd all returned back to the house, high off the festivals merriment and not wanting the fun to end. Yenory's famous fiancé’s chef had prepared a host full of dishes.
Pasteles, arroz con gandules, and pretty much every Puerto Rican dish and dessert known to man, as we all helped ourselves to hefty servings. Mouth full, Avi announced to no one particular.
“I ain't gonna lie, I don't really fuck with none of that emo shit. But hearing Black folk make it, it ain't half bad. I'm definitely gonna be secretly bumping to some of them tracks getting hyped on leg day,” he joked, as I took a bite from the gandules that really hit the spot.
“Okay, but why secretly, though? A lot of folks un-secretly bump to problematic artists, and you're telling me you'd rather listen to someone unproblematic in secret?
I don't know, it's giving no ma'am,” I challenged, as he pursed his lips comically and plopped down on the couch next to Graham’s equally attractive cousin.
“See, now that's why I like talking to you, Jaq. You stay calling me out on my dumb shit. But you gotta admit, a lot of people in our community don't be knowing not one non-white person singing punk and shit. If you do have guilty pleasures, it's the mainstream white artists.
Like, I know more Black and brown people that can say sing any song in the height of the reggaetón era of our generation.
And this is speaking not one lick of Spanish, but if you ask your average person to name any of the bands we just saw, the chances will come up slim. You could at least give me that.”
Like me, Avi was bred and raised in New York City, where we were used to hitting up Crown Heights for house parties, then hitting up Dyckman when you wanted to dance that bachata.
Here, it was like we knew how to live amongst each other and absorb each other's culture without appropriating.
So, I understood what he meant, but often I just wish we didn't ostracize Black alt culture. Hell, we were still Black too.
“Listen, I'm not arguing. You know I gotta have my guisado de chivo on Tuesdays and my Fufu and palm soup on Fridays. I don't know how I lived outside New York for so long and haven’t gone crazy.” Carly sat up to reach for her drink, looking rather cozy with Graham's cousin for people who had just met a day prior.
“Chile…can't relate. Where I'm from, you was either Black, white, or Mexican.
Wasn't no Afro-Latino, Afro-Caribbean, or coexisting with other people. Matter of fact, if you took one step in the wrong direction, you may have found yourself in the wrong neighborhood,” Carly admitted, turning to Kaihautū as she flirtatiously slipped through her straw.
“But I'm curious to what it was like for y'all growing up in Australia,” she asked, as Graham laughed and politely corrected her.
“Actually, he’s from Australia. I’m from New Zealand. Same Ngāti Pouro iwi, just slightly different countries,” Graham admitted, as Kaihautū took over.
“I'll admit it's not like wildly opposite, but New Zealand is just so small in comparison.
Australia to New Zealand is like what Texas is to…
let's say Massachusetts. I think where I'm from, it's just more diverse, but only because it's bigger,” he admitted, as Graham adjusted his leg upright as he rested his elbow on his knee.
He and his cousin couldn't have been more opposite. Surprisingly, they both wore glasses, but on Graham they’d managed to add to his nerdiness, whereas on Kaihautū, contributed to his bad boy esthetic with all the piercings Graham didn’t share.
He was this odd mashup of urban and eclectic but the look actually worked.
Strangely enough, I preferred Graham's geek chic attire, maybe because he looked the way he liked to.
Gosh, why did I even fucking care?
“Okay, but what kind of music did you guys listen to growing up,” I asked, where they just looked at each other and laughed. Apparently, his cousin wanted no part in answering.
“I mean, if I'm being honest, we both grew up LDS, so Christian music was what we listened to at home. But the same artists that are popular here, are popular in Australia and New Zealand. Give or take local artists from the UK. R&B is really popular with Polynesians.
Reggae, hip hop too. I think because often we don't see ourselves represented as much, seeing popular Black artists are easier to relate to and resonate with. Mariah Carey, Usher, Rihanna. Them amongst many others,” he admitted, turning Carly's expression whimsical as a thought suddenly came to her.
“Oh, that reminds me. Y'all know I had to bring some corny ass games with me, right? I know at least one of them has to be some kind of song association somewhere in my shit.” Carly stood, digging deep in one of her suitcases nearby and pulled out at least a half dozen board games ranging from Jenga to Yahtzee.
“Girl, don't you see we got Gen Z in attendance?
Bringing out some games people ain't played since 1997,” I goaded.
I'm sure almost everyone here had grown up on board games, but Graham and his cousin were born in the time where a tablet was pretty much glued to your hand.
But then again, Graham did have a prehistoric phone. It didn't get more ancient than that.
Carly finally pulled out the game she was looking for, as she sangsong, “Found it!” Opening it from its fresh packaging.
Inside lived a colorful microphone made out of foam, along with scorecards, and all the games’ hidden extras.
With a few drinks shared across each other, everyone was down to play, as Yenory volunteered to read the instructions.
The whole point of the game was to reveal the word on the card, and the first person to associate a song with the word got a chance at the point, as long as they can manage at least eight seconds of the lyrics and melody.
Oh, and you had to be the first one to grab the mic.
“I feel like we should split up into teams and make things more interesting? Ante up the stakes for with the prize,” Carly suggested, and Avi replied, “With what? Like a cash prize?” Carly winced.
“I ain't say all that. Your girl got some money, but not retired baseball dozens of endorsements money. I was thinking more along the lines of the winners get first dibs at the masseuses y'all booked. Your girl will be hustling hard knowing I'll be the first one getting stretched out and handled.”
“Professionally, you mean?” Kaihautū winked, and now I know for sure they were gonna fuck, trying to fuck, or had already fucked.
“Alright. Well, I called dibs on Kaihautū!” Yenory put her arms around Kaihautū’s neck as he leaned in and kissed her cheek, as Avi gave her this heated look.
“What, papi? I want to win and you’re always bragging how well your boy knows music.” Carly huffed.
“Fine, I got Avi. Because no offense, I need someone with a vast knowledge of songs and a seasoned brain.
What if I get the word free? Don't nothing Jaq listen to got that in the lyrics,” Carly chastised, reminding me that she'd always called my taste in music white until she learned just how vast the Black alt scene was.
Plus, it showed how much she knew! Graham from his own words was hella musical, so jokes on her!
“That's all right with you, isn’t it? That we’re stuck being partners again?” He turned to me, his dark eyes penetrating wearing a smile genuine. Looking too long in his eyes, I almost embarrassed myself by answering back in a squeak.
“I mean, yeah, if that's all right with you,” I replied, as he stood and pointed to the direction his room was in.
“Keen, keen, keen. Do you all mind if I grab something? The way that my brain works, it's just easier for me to remember things,” he announced as Avi waved him away, clearing his plate.
“Yeah, Papa, do you!” During his absence we all looked over the game only to discover Graham had returned from his room with a guitar, the look of impending doom written clearly across everyone but his cousin's face.
“Hold on, you got a whole ass guitar with you? Y'all saw that shit when they first came in?” Avi pointed, confused.