Brittle Bones: Introducing Aaron Morris

Abstract: The following excerpt is from my fictional coming-of-age novel about Audrey Anderson's life, a girl from a small made-up town of Tribuca, California, an aspiring musician. This excerpt is an interlude of my debut manuscript.

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In Detroit, the temperature can drop down to negative twenty degrees celsius. He was pretty happy about that. He lived for that cold, Canadian front that other pseudo midwesterners were always complaining about.

Besides, if it were warmer, swarms of young people would still be roaming the streets, returning back home from their weekly bender at the crack of dawn, blazers swung over their shoulders, completely shit faced. This was their gateway from the sinkhole. On the other end, old broads would walk their dogs, and the homeless would ruffle through the trash in search of aluminium treasures. Although right now, in this frigid cold, no one dared to step foot outside. Folks were tugged tight in the comfort of their warm beds under layers of duvet covers.

The cold eased the tension, awoke one’s senses.

Aaron Morris, the son of one of the biggest A&R guys in the music industry, sat on the rooftop, cigarette in hand, ready to be lit. This was his turf. This was his city.

He checked his equipment: goretex gloves for climbing, a bottle filled with gasoline, a flashlight, a knife, some matches, and a dry towel - everything was in its place. He checked behind him one more time. No one was in sight.

He never executed the plan he had in place. He climbed cranes. He trespassed a bunch of times. He wouldn’t dare to set the place on fire...because then it’d be admitting defeat.

A brisk, ice cold wisp of wind hit his face as he got up one more time to overlook the city. The sounds of the police siren was this city’s anthem. He finished his cigarette and effortlessly threw the bud into the unknown perils of Detroit. He hovered and tugged his hands in his pockets.

Tomorrow this city will be nothing more than a memory. He was set to leave for Los Angeles. He knew Detroit was never going to be a permanent spot, but LA didn’t get him. More importantly, he didn’t get LA and that’s why he’d never be able to blend well…

Aaron's dad, Carter Morris, worked as an A&R in the music industry which is another fancy way of saying he was talent scouting for a record label.

Is that term even relevant anymore? Aaron thought to himself as he scaled the fire exit to get back to his room.

It didn't matter. His father had a knack for re-adjusting, adapting, replacing...anything to keep the momentum of showbiz alive.

"Where's this new place we're jetting off to?" Aaron asked swinging his heavy-set back-up over his shoulder.

"You got your boarding pass, son?"

Aaron rolled his eyes.

"Stop avoiding the question. We've been doing this for years now. Where to this time?"

His father checked his pockets for keys, wallet, and his identification. In the midst of fast checking everything, he kept mumbling the security code under his breath. The condo was going to be rented out to distant relatives. For some reason, Carter never sold his properties. He kept acquiring them. He seldom rented.

They drove to the airport in silence.

"I don't get why I couldn't have just stayed behind to finish senior year here. What is the point in going two months before graduation?"

Carter pursed his lips.

"Because, son, we're going to be away for business for a while. Which means..."

"We're staying in Tribuca, aren't we?" Aaron finished.

Aaron was born in Tribuca, California. This town was situated approximately three miles outside of LA and three miles from Glendale.

Here comes the posh boy, Aaron thought. Tribuca was filled to the brim with privileged kids whose parents were either famous lawyers, plastic surgeons, talent agents or in A&R.

Aaron didn't particularly care to associate with them. He had privilege, but he also had big dreams that he was willing to accomplish without his father's help or connections...which would seem kind of pointless anyway since he wanted nothing to do with the music industry.

He was a photographer scaling high crane buildings to capture the rarest sights. Needless to say that having a dad pursuing a career in an artsy field had its perks because he never had to explain his passion...

His father just got it.

Then, Aaron Morris met Audrey Anderson. An aspiring rock star who became his punky girl in a barbie world...and those connections started to sound awfully tempting...

As they were approaching the airport, the last bits of Eminem's "Mockingbird" filled the car.

And if that mockingbird don't sing and that ring don't shine

I'ma break that birdy's neck

I'll go back to the jeweller who sold it to ya

And make him eat every carat

Don't fuck with dad, haha

Carter smirked as he turned off the engine.