DUSTWORLD

A LATE NIGHT DINER in town.

          The band are seated at a booth by a street facing window, having a post-gig bite. They don’t know it yet, but they are about to meet Adam Ash, the music industry legend, Johnny Cash vibes with Mickey Rourke attitude.

          Everyone at the table is trying to ignore Cosmo as he blathers, “...so then I was like why would you even say that? Right? Unless it was about something else, right?”

          Eve mumbles under her breath, “I mean you should know Cos.”

          “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cosmo knows exactly what she meant.

          She rolls her eyes, “Forget it.”

          “What? Why—”“Forget about it Cosmo.”

          “You still mad?” he scowls. “It’s a fricken song, Eve.”

          “Just drop it, Cosmo.”

          “Oh my goddammit Eve, you’re the one who’s always—”

          The man in rhinestones and designer shades approaches the table. “Um, excuse me—”

          “Holy shit can I fucking help you?” Cosmo blares, disgusted at the intrusion. Glaring up at the sparkling stranger touching his shoulder, Cosmo’s mouth falls agape.

          “I’m sorry to interrupt,” says the man, “I just wanted to say, I was at your show tonight. Nice set.”

          Cosmo’s jaw hangs by a thread. Eve’s eyes are out of her head. Kenny is stunned, Paul and Dave are awestruck and starstruck. Adam Ash, in his mid fifties, famous chiseled features still prominent under leathery skin after more than two decades as a global music icon, offers his hand to Cosmo. “I’m Adam.”

          Paralyzed, staring at Adam’s trademark shades, Cosmo stammers, “I know…”

          Adam gestures his still-extended hand awkwardly. Cosmo takes it with both hands, shakes it reverently. “Um… I’m Cosmo.”

          Kenny whispers to Paul “Is that—”

          “Adam Ash,” Paul finishes Kenny’s thought.

          Cosmo swallows hard. “So what did you think of the show?”

          “Liked it. Your singing’s pretty decent. Ever take voice lessons?”

          A flattered grin spreads across Cosmo’s face, “No.”

          “I can tell,” replies Adam. Cosmo’s eyes dart sideways as his smile evaporates. Ash turns to Eve, “And you are…”

          “I’m Eve.”

          Adam lifts the shades from his face and takes her hand. Gazing into her eyes, he bends regally and plants a kiss on her knuckle. Looking like she might pass out, Eve murmurs “Wow…”

          Adam looks her deep in the eyes. “Eve. You are amazing.”

          “Thank you.”

          “I can tell you got some pipes.”

          “Pipes?”

          “A natural voice. And incredible stage presence. You really made the show,” Adam gushes. Cosmo’s face twitches.

          “Oh...” Eve is in a daze.

          Cosmo interjects, “Hey what’s that supposed to mean?”

          “What?” Adam puts his shades back on.

          “Oh you can tell I never took voice lessons. What’s that supposed to mean?”

          “Oh nothing. I mean you got a great voice too man, don’t get me wrong. I’m just saying, you know. Anyone can benefit from a good teacher,” Adam’s eyes find Eve. “Anyone.”

          Cosmo sneers, “No thanks dude.”

          “Do you teach?” Eve pipes in.

          A pleased smirk bends across Adam’s face. “As a matter of fact, I do... May I?” He takes a napkin off the table and writes his number on it. “That’s my Blackberry. Hit me anytime.”

          “Gentlemen,” Adam nods at Kenny, Paul and Dave, then Cosmo, before turning to Eve. “And Eve.”

          Cosmo stews as Adam smiles at her over the top of his shades, sauntering back to his table across the restaurant. Patrons try not to stare, whispering to one another in a wake as he passes by. Eve carefully folds the napkin and puts it in her pocket. Ghost is standing beside their table in the street outside the window of the diner, eyes cupped on the glass with both hands.

         

A SUNNY AFTERNOON in Central Park.

          Ghost is looking at something behind a bush: Cosmo crouched in the dirt and trash, spying on Eve and Adam through binoculars as they stroll side by side along a winding path in the park. Adam yammers on about something while Eve clutches a notebook to her chest. Ghost looks on, embarrassed as Cosmo clenches his jaw, looking like a psycho behind the bush.

          Adam and Eve are deep in conversation as they stop at the cart of a Nut Vendor. Adam takes out his money clip, peels off a bill, takes a bag of nuts, offering some to Eve. She pops one in her mouth, still piping hot. Nut Vendor waves Adam’s change. Adam waves him off without turning around. Adam and Eve walk off never once noticing that Nut Vendor is Cosmo.

 

At the Met, Eve and Adam are discussing a painting on the wall. A Museum Guard stands nervously beside them. Adam and Eve gesture closely at the painting, almost touching the surface; the guard gestures for them to step back from the artwork, but they act as though he wasn't there.

          Adam puts his hand lovingly on the canvas, feeling its texture; Eve does the same. Museum Guard shits a brick, but Eve and Adam, still chatting, simply walk off, never once noticing that Museum Guard is Cosmo.

​

In Coney Island, Eve and Adam are at a classic boardwalk carnival water gun game stand. He gives a few game tickets to the Game Attendant as Eve picks the squirt rifle up from its base and takes aim. The game light turns on; a forceful jet of water shoots from Eve’s gun into the mouth of the Game Clown, which is Cosmo. He struggles against the stream, gagging as a balloon behind his head fills and bursts, mushing his hair pathetically over his face.

          The Game Attendant hands over a gigantic plush bear. Eve claps with delight and takes the oversized stuffie, never once noticing the Game Attendant is Cosmo.

 

At a classic Drive-In Diner, Cosmo, as Carhop Waitress, roller skates across the parking lot wearing a pleated miniskirt uniform, small paper hat perched on her head.
          Eve and Adam, parked in a jade Mustang convertible with burgundy interiors, finish their meal. Cosmo the Waitress detaches a tray loaded with greasy trash from the car door as Eve and Adam share a laugh. Without looking, Adam reaches behind him to drop a wadded up napkin on top of the pile, which misses the tray, falling directly onto the ground as Cosmo the Carhop Waitress glowers at the Mustang pulling away.

          A series of weirdos watch the car as it passes: Cosmo, as a tattooed biker on a Harley Davidson; Cosmo, as a grandma smoking a cigarette; Cosmo, as a pair of twin girls wearing matching dresses and bows; Cosmo, as a dentist with greaser hair wearing a thick black rubber smock drilling on a hapless patient (also Cosmo) right in the middle of the parking lot. Cosmo the Game Attendant frowns. Cosmo the Museum Guard shakes his head. Cosmo the Nut Vendor scowls. Cosmo the Carhop Waitress flips her bangs.

          The Mustang is a piece of automotive art as it rolls through the parking lot, jade green exteriors waxed to high sheen, classic organic curves looking almost alive. Eve gazes at Adam, who smirks with smarmy satisfaction as blood red vinyl unfurls itself from behind the backseat of the green Mustang. The mechanical roof closes in slowly from above, swallowing them like a Venus fly-trap.

          The classic car rolls past Ghost, who watches, sadly, helplessly, forlorn, alone, invisible. Rear wheels spin against the blacktop, churning up clouds of white smoke, making Ghost cough as the Mustang zooms off down the dark road, red taillights trailing into the night.