DeVil in the Details.

Mesembryanthemum

Once he found his allusive lighter, he resumed his recreational activities on his shabby balcony overlooking the horizon, now black-blue with pale moonlight unfortunately cloaked by street lamp lights below.

It was going for two in the morning, but he simply could not sleep.

Sound of the music and the sound of his thoughts mingled peacefully, enjoying the ambience.

Sinking to the floor and following gravity as he sat down on an old lawn chair he found...comfortable.

Thinking of a story he heard on the news of a another missing persons case the day before and wondered if wandering the streets was worth the risk considering how far he was from anyone he knew, he was certainly a long way from home, home being on an entirely different continent.

He had decided to go anyway, out on the town. Rowland at the time believed that he needed the excitement, staring at the waning moon through the bars of his balcony like a prisoner would through his only window - a morose pale blue with the wind creating a rhythm that which the Palms danced to under the moonlight's shy glimmer that made the leaves shimmer and found himself thinking of Nick.

'Who was this person and why did it matter, what was so significant about his presence...apart from the fact that I've never seen him before.', He thought.

'What a lift, stranger? '

The words echoed as Rowland admitted he did indeed feel that it really would have saved him the walk, he thought to himself laughing a little for getting weird vibes from the stone-jawed stranger and figured he was just being sceptical.

'Who gives a shit?'

Rowland thought as he stood up and had one long inhale and started putting on his sneakers, grabbing his other bag -appose to his school bag which he resents, this bag was full of spray cans and a few small stencils he had made the day before. Slowly easing his way up from the ground as the dizziness from the weed overtook him.

As he moved towards the door and upon opening it, the smell of herbs and spices filled the short and narrow corridor of the apartment complex. And as Rowland walked past each door he found himself unknowingly eavesdropping as his curiosity compelled him instinctively as it always has. He constantly heard loud arguments and music almost on a daily basis, children crying , the unwanted screams and grunts of sex. The walls were paper thin to him, to him it was a miracle that he could even sleep.

Loud sirens screech by on the street as Rowland descends down the stairs to the outside world, rubbing his stubble-covered face subconsciously while scoping the skyline for plain white walls and slightly out of sight billboards, checking the coast for any lingering law enforcement.

Where to begin when you plot to paint the town red, blue and other bold and bright colors.

He stood in a dark alley facing the city skyline, pondering thousands of things at once like

what to do with all this time between midnight and the next day..?

It was a eerie peaceful night and so Rowland took his time as he walked past strangers, hookers, thieves and possible homicidal maniacs as well as victims (including himself, the real question was which one) as he imagined the worst. kicking stones and thinking of his new day job at a bistro up town as a dish washer.

'Just four days left and it's the weekend...', he thought.

He repeated to himself over and over again, blankly staring at a billboard a few blocks away from where he stood. And as he started again to walk, his phone rang. And to his surprise, it was his girlfriend :

"Hey, Char! What are you doing up so late?"

"Are you thinking too much..?", the voice was sweet yet groggy as a sign of just waking up.

"Because I think you're thinking too much.", Charlotte continued followed by a heavy sigh of exhaustion.

"Damn, yeah I-",

he was cut off by Charlotte.

"I should ask you the same question, young man.", cutting Rowland's train of thought in two.

"Well what can I say, I'm a night owl.", completely forgetting what it was he was going to say, now standing in front of the building that the billboard stood upon, looking for ways to get to the top all the while watching his back.

"You went a little quiet there, Row..."

" Oh, shit sorry I'm just...trying... To find a way up.", his mouth agape, looking upwards and along the walls for a fire escape or some sort of stair case.

"Up where..? "

"To the hoarding. "

"A what? ", He sighed and smiled knowing very well that very few people knew that word, it was his bad;

"A billboard, Char."

"Whatever, chochotte.", Charlotte giggled then continued, "Where are you anyway?"

" Why d'you wanna know? ", he held the phone with his right shoulder.

"I just wanna make you a blunt...just a special delivery if you're close.", she said playfully, Rowland could hear the smile in her voice.

"Well...I don't think now is a good time...", biting his lip as he now stares at the shoddy fire escape ladder that leads to his destination.

Her panted breathe could be heard on the other side as she tossed and turned before she began with playful suspicion in her voice,

"Are you cheating on me."

Rowland laughed at the question and answered while he examined his tool kit and opted for spray paint this time,

"Yeah, she's big and broad and doesn't mind getting dirty with my paint roller."

"What..?", said Charlotte, genuinely concerned, it made her sound cute to him as he broke down in a chuckle.

"Still talking about the billboard, babe.", he said condescendingly almost losing his footing as he laughed at her.

"Oh shit... Almost fell."

"For fucks sake, Row."

They both laughed which was soon followed by a strange silence due to Rowland's concentration on his footing as he climbed the rusty ladder, stopping every now and then at the sound of passing sirens.

Once he made it, he put his phone on hands free mode and the sounds of aerosol cans and ruffling fabric could be heard on Charlotte's end, she waited until finally:

" Ah, I made it... Sorry, where were we..?"

"You were cheating on me with a billboard..."

Charlotte responded, giggling at the thought of her boyfriend dry humping a large advertisement stand.

"What's so funny?", he asked, catching her contagious bout of laughter

"Oh, just... Thinking about this whole billboard business, talk about getting wood."

"It's industrialised steel, apparently I have standards.", and they both burst into laughter as the night sky grew lighter above Rowland.

" I wouldn't be surprised if you were gay."

"Hell, I don't think all the way gay, I mean..."

*gasp* " Rowland DeVile, are you telling me...you're bi-curious..?"

Charlotte always refused to use Rowland's full surname for reasons that she would never say for she believed that he knew exactly why not. When she uttered the last few words, her voice went an octave higher as if she was about to hear gossip of the century.

"Hey, I mean...being gay isn't a choice, Char. "

Rowland chuckled consciously.

"No it is not, honey. No it is not.", slowing the pace of each sentence as if meaning what she said with laughter bubbling out of her throat. An amusing conversation topic but a rather gloomy one when or if relationships are tested, he thought.

Charlotte halted for a moment and sighed heavily,

"What? What's on your mind?", Rowland asked.

"No, I'm just catching my breath...and I've been thinking about how frustrating it is to be the only one who knows your artwork around town, y'know...you really need to get in touch with artistic circles, Row."

"I guess... I hope you're not the only one who does, though. Besides, it's not about the publicity it's about the art... Like giving your hometown a voice or like comic strips on the walls, they tell a story... I mean", he sighed "I'm no old master, here. And I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one out there, you know.", he exhaled softly, thinking to himself as if realising his own insignificance but had a supposed moment of clarity and inhaled deeply as if about to speak.

"Spit it out, Row... "

"It's just funny, how knowing how much of a nobody you are can really put things into perspective..."

*sigh*"Rowland... " Charlotte started, having always said his name like that when he had said or done a particular thing that otherwise would bother her. But he continued :

"No, no just hear me out, I mean... I was just thinking that, if nothing I do really matters then I have the ability to do whatever I want... I mean...some people will be like 'nothing really matters, so why bother.'. But I say 'hey, nothing really matters so why not. ' y'know." and all the while he was saying that, he had dropped his paint can and started pacing unbeknownst to himself while Charlotte listened.

" Well fuck, I never thought about it like that, Row Jeez.", she said with a huff of surprise, then continued :

"It's like...four in the Fucking morning, Row." which immediately reminded Rowland that he needed to get a move on for multiple reasons, one being the police.

"Hey, it's kinda nice hearing from you after two days."

"kinda..?"

"Well, apparently you're not the only one... I mean I could even have a list... Maybe.", he shrugged his shoulders and held back a laugh ,trying to pull a straight face for an imaginary audience as he heard her gasp cartoonishly and whimper like a child obviously crying wolf.

"Hey,this is awkward buuut... I got to go. I kinda have a date...", he continued humorously imitating the roll of the board lover.

"Smoke up before we hang up..?", he asked while he looked for his inter dimensional space traveling lighter that came and went as it pleased.

"I was about to ask the same thing."

And so both, Charlotte and Rowland smoked their own joints together. Saying their good mornings, their good nights and good byes. With Rowland bracing himself for the week to come.

*******

*Coloured=referring to the South African term for biracial.