Sunburnt

Greta hits rock bottom and trades in her Chardonnay for coffee. She moves to sunny Bombay Beach, Florida where she gets a new apartment in a quaint cottage, a new job and a new lease on life. She spends time at the beach soaking up the sun and reflecting on her past destructive relationships. She meets a mysterious married man Garth, who she keeps bumping into. Greta dates a local musician Jimmy, but after his untimely suicide she must find the cause of his death. She and her girlfriend Kat put on a concert with the help of magnetic club owner Sly and invite superstar Crash to perform all of Jimmy’s music. Will they discover why Jimmy took his own life?

Sly is a dazzling man, living the high life as owner of one of the towns hottest clubs, Voodoo. He has it all, wine, women, a beach house and a sister who has one of Hollywoods’ hottest cooking shows, Elvira! He cannot find love in his life, until he meets Greta. But is it too late to change his ways?


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1. Sunburnt

Chapter 1

 

We're more popular than Jesus now; I don't know which will go first, rock 'n' roll or Christianity.

John Lennon

 

I had finally hit rock bottom. I knew I was in deep shit after I polished off the entire second bottle of the Little Penguin Chardonnay. I knew I was in trouble because I lost my car keys and I couldn’t get home and I had no cab fare and my alcoholic boyfriend was a jerk off. Three strikes in a row. My luck was running out.

 

So there I was, desperately stranded at his beachside penthouse condo with no way to get home but to walk. I was finally walking out on him because he had broken his promise to me that he wouldn’t drink anymore. He would always drink, drinking was his best friend, that was a fact. I was tired and beat up and worn down and haggard. I was tired of this relationship, tired of life and tired of myself.  I finally walked out on him. Of course my friends and family had warned me, but all to no avail. I guess that’s because I never listened to anyone.

 

I walked to the bus stop on Federal Highway and waited on the bench for the bus. I sat there and stared out at the cars stopping at the red light, people looking over at me like I was some pathetic little girl.  Did I even have bus fare on me? I frantically rummaged through my bag. Two  quarters and a dime. One guy rolled down his window and said, “Hey baby, need a ride?” I did, as a matter of fact, so I jumped into his black 1999 Camaro and we sped away as the light changed. The car smelled like Evergreen air freshener and he had Led Zepplins’ “Stairway to Heaven” playing on his CD player. There was an old Marshall amp in the backseat that stunk of stale smoke. Old empty cans of beer lay open on the floor and the odd cockroach ran by for cover. He was smoking a cigarette and smiling at me with an ugly, “I haven’t been laid for a long time”, chipped tooth, fucked up smile. I guess this was my lucky day.

 

“I’m Eddy.” he said as he put his damp hand on my thigh. “I’m Greta”, I said, taking his hand off my thigh. “You from around here babe? I’ve never seen you here before.” No, that was for sure. I would normally not jump into strange cars but this was an emergency. ”I’m going to Bombay beach….It’s just north a few miles.” I said, my heart pounding.

“Sure, Bombay Beach, yeah I did a few gigs there.…”he said.

My brain was still fuzzy from all the alcohol and I started to feel weird. Weird like I was going to throw up weird.

 

“I feel sick!” I gasped and puked out the window.

 

Eddy pulled the car over, opened the door and heaved me out.

 

“Sorry lady!” He moaned.

 

He drove off, leaving me on the side of the road. I wiped my mouth and picked myself up and flipped him a bird. “Screw you!” I yelled. Luckily I had one last piece of Juicy Fruit in my bag, which I promptly chewed, the sweet taste moisturizing my mouth from the acrid taste of throw up. My jeans were now ripped and my purse was scuffed up. This was not me. This was not who I was or who I was raised to be. It had been Peter’s fault that I was in this mess, I was paying for his alcohol addiction. Of course, I was also paying the price of my bad choices in life.

 

I had spent four years with him, drifting in and out of bars around Fort Lauderdale. Every bartender in town knew us or rather, knew him for his non-stop drinking binges and excessive tipping. We were not ever turned away from an establishment serving alcohol. We were regulars. During those four years I turned into a lush myself, drowning myself in white wine and vodka. This was finally the end. The ravages had finally taken its’ toll and now this….

 

A cop car pulled over to the side of the road and flashed his lights at me. I froze. Oh no, not this. Did I deserve this punishment? The cop got out of the car and walked over to me sitting on the side of the road.

 

 “Can I see some ID please Miss?” he took my ID and ran it in his computer in the cop car. My head was spinning from puke and alcohol, from the blue and red lights and the smell of Evergreen air freshener. “Stairway to Heaven” flashed through my head and then I passed out.

 

When I woke up I was in jail, sitting in a cell, wearing an orange jumpsuit. I do not remember how I got it on, but reality was hitting me hard in my pounding head. My cell was empty, thank God. I took a piss and started to feel better. Someone came to let me out. “You’ve made bail. “ she said and tossed me my clothes. “Get dressed princess.”

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