Yerba Buena, 2011: Dawn In The Gold Country

Nico feels like the most wonderful ruin. She’s getting everything the devils get from Marie and more, plus she gets to wake up at noon after the fog has burned off and Marie’s apartment is windows wide open with sunlight and jasmine. Marie lives in a horde but her apartment has a perfect view and she looks directly over the best neighborhood to eat, which is good because Marie never cooks and Nico’s always like “in your dreams Marie.” Nico’s a woman who sticks to the dignity she can find, okay?

So they go out. Nico nearly topples trying to stand up and again when she tries walking down the stairs so Marie carries her like a princess down the flight without even asking. Nico scowls and tries to stand up herself but Marie just laughs which is, what a irrepressible presumptive jerk? Also is that not the super hottest possible thing? Fuck Marie.

It’s nice to get a chance to give up on being taken seriously. It’s almost all Nico worries about, so not having to care is such as refreshing change of pace. Do they think I’m stupid? Are they humoring me? Do they just pretend to think I’m interesting because they want to drink me up as much as I’ll let them? Well no worrying about that with Marie. Marie doesn’t give a shit about Nico. Marie’s insatiable but she never asks for the parts of Nico that are off limits. Maybe hating each other a little in a fun way is the secret of a good relationship. This is obviously a bad relationship, so that is probably not true. Still, they are having fun. They’re going to hunt this afternoon, and have breakfast now, and Nico hasn’t been this happy in a while. Nico thinks about Ginette for a moment. Then she thinks about her for the whole walk to brunch. Maybe she’s doing something wrong.


Aevee Bee

Aevee Bee is a flannel vaporwave queer and the editor of ZEAL, an online micro zine with cool art and games coverage of overlooked games from exciting new writers and artists. She runs an extremely self-indulgent twitter account and tumblr, contributes regularly to Paste magazine, and freelances in the odd corners of the web. Mammon Machine is her horrifying aesthetic.