Act 2, Scene 2

FEDE

The thing I most remember from college is my friends, everything else is just a collection of data, numbers, strategies and tendencies that I learned without passion. At this time I was an intern at a lucrative construction business whose foundations were made out of cocaine and nepotism. My bosses had a soft spot for me since they considered me one of their own despite me not being interested in being so. 

I could only be myself once I clocked out. I’d go out and see Javier, Javier 2, Bojo, Grandpa and all the other boys who thought they were men. Our outings consisted of drinking just a tad too much (the beginnings of that particular problem) while our conversations of choice revolved around Magnum PI, Miami Vice or baseball.

“Where was Karl Marx in the meanwhile?”, you may ask. He wasn’t there because I didn’t want him to be there, for as much as I didn’t want to admit it. All I wanted was my paycheck, more material for my CV, and getting back home to Meli for the rest of my natural existence. She wasn’t too aware of all of this; she had enough to worry about.

One day, March 8th, turned out to be my birthday and so Meli threw the only surprise party anyone has ever organized in my name. Everyone was there, from her hippie friends to my yuppie buddies, There was also a gift, a head, literally and symbolically. 

Half a diorama and half a sculpture, the artwork was a thorough recreation of the apartment in my head, at least from what I could remember from Meli’s descriptions. Even the murals were recreated in miniature forms along the tiny concrete hallways. It was a fantastic piece, clearing the bar for even the strictest architecture professor’s standards. On a technical level, Meli did nothing but spectacular pieces.

Oh, how I wanted to love that thing. I believe I would have been comfortable if it had been a nude painting of me.

            END OF SCENE