At ten-thirty Liana shook me awake and dragged me from bed. A dream that I couldn’t remember was already fading away. I had slept hard, the kind of hard that takes awhile to soften, and I had slept in my clothes and sweated so much that my clothes stuck to my skin. Liana showed me how to work the shower – don’t turn the knob too far to the right otherwise you’ll get scolded and not too far to the left as you’ll freeze. As I played tentatively with the tap, trying to find a moderate temperature, Liana unbuttoned her jeans and then sat on the toilet and peed. I pretended not to notice and spent an unrealistic amount of time with the shower controls.
‘Tonight will enlighten you,’ said Liana. ‘It’s going to be fun. I have some friends who you really must meet.’
I could hear her peeing in the toilet.
‘Sounds great,’ I replied. ‘But I’m not sure about the whole “enlightened” thing.’
‘God, you’re predictable.’
‘Life is meaningless,’ I said with a smile.
‘Rubbish,’ she said, grabbing wads of loo roll. ‘You better not say that shit to my friends,’ she warned. She stood and pulled up her jeans. ‘I mean it. We’re supposed to be having fun, remember?’
‘Oh yes. I’m having fun.’
‘Take a shower. Be ready in ten minutes.’
Twenty minutes later and we were on our way out the door. Her friends were expecting us half an hour ago. Through the landing windows all I could see was the black of the city and the occasional orange light. At night cities reclaim their virginity; virgin lungs and brain, virgin heart reborn and ready for conquering. I glanced over the banisters. Below us the lobby floor pulsed and vibrated.
As we descended the stairs we heard techno coming up towards us. A young man with dark skin and dreads and wearing thick-rimmed glasses was dancing on the third floor landing. The music came from small speakers hung from his belt. Despite being late Liana stopped to dance with him for a couple of beats before continuing on our way. The music faded above us. Liana jumped the last two steps into the lobby and threw herself at the large double doors and smashed her way into the street.
We caught a tram packed with people revelling in the evening. The tram stopped to let passengers on and off and three rogue-like men stepped on and set up hand drums at the rear and started playing. The music filled the carriage and people danced and drank. Someone sparked up a joint. The beat of the drums hammered into my chest. When we reached ***** Liana and I jumped off and watched the “dance-tram” turn the corner.
The river ran parallel to a cobbled street lined with bars and cafes where groups of people enjoyed beer and conversation. The sound of chatter echoed around us. We made our way along the river edge. It was lined with lights, beautiful reflections balancing on the water. The cafes and bars glowed in neon.
Liana was one step ahead of me, leading me through the evening revellers. Again she ducked and dived, agile like an animal, and again I struggled to keep up. Eventually we arrived at a bar called ****** and I followed her in and into a bright space of contemporary furniture and soft couches. The walls were bare brick with artwork and murals. Delicately placed floor lamps leant over from corners. Towards the rear was a wooden bar embedded with fairy lights. Music played in the background. I followed Liana up a spiral staircase to a mezzanine with low coffee tables and teak couches. There were shelves rammed with books. In the corner was a man and two women, all three in their mid-twenties, sitting with bottles of beer. When they saw us approach a huge fuss was made as they stood and in turn hugged and kissed Liana. I shook hands with all three. The man, Dave, was English, and the two women, Reena and Hedy, were German. The five of us sat.
Dave pushed his glasses up his nose. His glasses were large, thick-rimmed, and tinted blue. ‘This place is like home,’ he said to me, smiling. He had a great smile. ‘It’s my diving board into Berlin.’
‘Cool artwork,’ I said, looking around.
‘It’s very cool,’ said Hedy. Hedy was a slim frantic-looking woman with frizzy black hair and a nose stud. Her skin was dark and she had red lipstick. She wore a faux leather jacket the colour of cognac, with zips that she couldn’t stop playing with.
Rolling a cigarette Reena said to me, ‘What is that?’
‘What is what?’
‘On your nose? Is that a tattoo?’
I laughed. ‘It’s not a tattoo. I was in an accident. It’s a scar.’
‘It looks like a moth?’ said Hedy.
Liana felt compelled to change the subject. ‘Does anyone want another drink?’
Dave held up his beer and shook it to show it was almost done. ‘Yes. Definitely.’ I opted for a coke. Dave said, ‘Go order at the bar, they’ll bring it up.’
Liana glanced at me. ‘Are you coming?’
‘Do you need me to?’
‘He’s alright here with us,’ said Dave, leaning back. He smoothed out his shirt with his palms. ‘We’ll take care of him.’
I chuckled. ‘You see. Your friends are going to take care of me.’
Liana shot me a worried glance and then disappeared down the stairwell to the bar below.
‘It’s beautiful,’ said Reena.
‘The moth. It’s beautiful.’
‘It kind of suits him, don’t you think?’ said Dave, peering over his glasses.
Hedy put a finger to her lips and frowned like someone in a museum. ‘It’s like someone painted on you.’
‘I love your face,’ said Reena. ‘I love your scar. It looks like a moth. Why is it blue?’
Dave said, ‘I think we’re freaking him out now. Are we freaking you out?’
‘It turned blue within a matter of days. I don’t know why.’
‘It looks like a tattoo.’
‘How did you get it?’ Dave asked.
‘Car accident.’ I shuffled uncomfortably on my seat and cleared my throat. There was a pause.
‘Far out,’ said Hedy.
‘To be honest, I don’t like to think about it,’ I told them. ‘If you think about something for too long you start to become it.’
Dave shrugged. ‘What’s wrong with that?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with becoming a moth,’ said Reena. ‘You’ll always fly towards the light.’
‘Mate, fucking go with it,’ said Dave. He swirled the beer in his bottle and then tipped his head back. I watched the beer drain from the bottle.
Liana came back to the table. ‘What did I miss?’
Dave smiled. ‘Everything.’
We settled into the couches and drank and talked. Liana’s friends were a mash of opinions and ideals that at times felt contradictory and destabilising. Perhaps they knew this. Perhaps not.
Reena rolled another cigarette from a pack of tobacco on the table. She was a small and robust young lady. As she rolled the cigarette her fingers I noticed were coppery with dirt and I wondered if she had been tending to soil. All three of Liana’s friends, I would discover, were students of ecology and environmental health. Reena was undertaking a PhD and was due to leave for Scotland in a few weeks where her latest field work was occurring.
Liana turned to Hedy. ‘So Heds, are you working on anything lately?’
Hedy put her feet up on the edge of the coffee table. She had leather boots. ‘I have a couple of projects on the go,’ she said. She shrugged and started working her teeth on a finger nail.
‘What is it that you do?’ I asked.
‘Hedy is an amazing sculptor,’ said Liana. ‘She works with metals.’
‘Glass too,’ said Hedy. ‘Mostly I forage for metal at the city dump or at the reclaimers. I take things and remould them into something new.’
‘You should work with wood,’ said Dave. He reached for the pack of cigarettes on the table and absently worked a cigarette from the packet. ‘I know everything there is to know about wood,’ he said. ‘Lacewood Pine, Pearwood, Maple, Cherry, Cedar, Ash, Birch. Afromosia, Bubinga, Sapele, Teak. There’s hundreds. We should work on something together. That would be awesome.’ He squeezed an eye shut and lit the cigarette. ‘Definitely we should work together.’
‘My latest project is with glass,’ said Hedy. ‘Very different, very finite. Interesting material but hard to work with.’
‘What are you making?’ asked Reena.
‘A bust of my mother. It’s hollow.’
‘You need to fill it with things,’ said Reena. ‘Otherwise it’s just hollow.’
‘That’s the point,’ said Hedy.
‘Don’t you like your mother?’ I asked.
‘Of course I do,’ said Hedy. ‘But the reality of the world is whatever she chooses it to be. The number one problem with getting older is that you drag the world away from new perspectives.’
Liana said, ‘I can’t live in the confines of other people’s expectations.’
‘Fucking aye,’ said Dave, raising his beer.
These people had no qualms about transcending reality as long as they brought back with them the spiritual tools needed to improve themselves and the world around them. To this aim Liana had surrounded herself with an array of friends and acquaintances who all knew something about, and had varying levels of education within ecology and the environment, social sciences and economic development. They were the internet generation, connected, self-aware, hedonistic. Metropolitan hipster. They were surviving through a mix of capitalist individualism and socialist ideals. As a collective they understood the need for modernity and change. They wanted change. They craved balance and power over ones endeavours and over the institutions that governed them. They were sexually liberated and fearless in the face of criticism.
As we stood to leave Liana pointed a finger aggressively across the table. ‘The only power we have,’ she said, ‘is the ability to write our own stories and hope they inspire others into action. I like this life. Modern life suits me. I don’t want it to end.’