I don't remember the day I met fera. that block of time a couple years ago blend together into one constant memory of her—maybe it was just last year, I can't recall. we met through jessica as a result of question culture. the places we saw each other were either jess' apartment, bars, or the first shows fera would perform at. I wasn't at the first show, maybe the second. I did see the jump though.
the growth from playing places like knucklehead to places like the moroccan lounge, the echo, the roxy, emo nite, and now hopping on a handful of dates of a thundercat tour amongst all the other shit I wasn't there for and the future shit I haven't even registered yet.
there's a photobooth strip from the cha cha lounge of fera, myself, and jessica somewhere. the camera was metered for white people so all of us came out dark as hell, we looked cute in it even if you could barely make us out. I hate that I'm blanking, trying to think about the times she and I have shared but isn't that lucky? just enough of them to start forgetting—all wonderful enough to carry that fondness I hope I'm never nostalgic for, because I'd still be feeling it on and on and on and on.
there was a trivia night at some bar we went to. we went for the trivia specifically though, jessica roped us into it. we did pretty decent if you ignore the leading groups of geeks who show up weekly with teams of 8+ people whom 50/50 were in high school or community theater and are now avid funko pop collectors. if you ignore those guys, we're probably top 3.
fera got an espresso martini, I went for an amaretto sour. and then I think I went for a negroni. and then an old fashioned. and then I think I finished her espresso martini. I've quit drinking a few weeks ago by the way.
at the roxy show I got to be around for soundcheck before she, the question culture team, and myself went across the street for japanese food at tenmasa. she was opening for alemeda, we left for the venue and they went up to the green room while I camped up at the front of the stage to secure my place for photos. the last time I was there was for remy's first show.
the amazing thing is, I ran into dante while waiting there. he's someone I know through julianne—I don't expect too see much crossover in los angeles given how big it is and how far spread the scenes are but I shouldn't be surprised after fera and jessica ran into ivy out in the town. I really am reminded how small this town is every day.
I'm coming down from a strong cup of coffee. whenever I drink caffeine I go through intense emotions, usually love for everything. love for the strands that bind us. I'd be crying by now but I'm chilling. I feel peace more than anything.
at the moroccan show, fera opened for ayleen valentine. it was valentine's day. I did the home shoot with hannah the day before and forget my wallet at her place so I needed to book it to weho and then straight to the venue. I wasn't taking photos, I brought my camera, but I didn't take photos. I wish I did though. so often I'll think to myself that I just have to experience the moment, then I become some wallflower who doesn't know how to talk to people and ends up on his phone wishing he was involved. I love doing something. I like feeling as if I'm supposed to be there, which no one is supposed to be anywhere (unless you're literally hired and committed).
during the show, I couldn't see. I had been putting off getting glasses so everything was a blur.
don, who was managing ayleen at the time, was at the show. I chatted him up briefly; talked about eva, talked about faetooth. I should have asked him if he could get me a free copy of the sophomore faetooth record—my photo is literally on the packaging, I think I deserve a copy not gonna lie...
after the show there was a line that lasted hours. both fera and ayleen were slinging merch, meeting fans, signing shit. it was sweet to see. all the people who showed up for fera, all the convert fans after seeing her set. I wonder if it's hit her.
when life goes fast, you can't think about it sometimes. you can't look back and measure the progress because it gets overwhelming. you've been pushed to new heights, living starts to change, you gain all these experiences and have the whiplash of balancing this rising career and the ongoing moments of normal, everyday life while they last. you think about the existential part of it all.
you compartmentalize. you focus on the next show. you flip the switch and go back to normal. you flip the switch and go back on stage. eventually it'll come together and the spotlight becomes the new normal.
I wonder where she is right now. it isn't my life to think about though. she's probably handling it better than I'd ever will. my sudden rise to frame would likely be endless partying and notes app apologies with some disabled instagram comments to boot.
after our session, fera and I went to a convenience store and bought some ice cream. I helped bring in a bed frame into her room and we ate our pints—she on her bed, myself on the floor.
