Panic Attack

Joh

On his way back to his apartment he passed a newsstand so he checked out the papers and saw the headlines trigger happy and gun crazy. Reading the articles at the newsstand, Joh

Man, Joh

He took the subway to Forest Hills. He walked right up to the Blooms’ door and slid a note he’d written underneath. He loved this, being so close to the house, like he was rubbing it in the guy’s face, showing the guy, I don’t give a shit, I can get as close to you as I want. I can even screw your daughter, you son of a bitch, and there’s nothing you can do to stop me.

There was nothing he liked more than screwing with people’s heads, and this was going to be his biggest mindfuck ever.

Back at his apartment, he watched Frida and Pollock,fast- forwarding through the boring parts- okay, most of both movies- but he picked up some good info and buzzwords. He spent the rest of the evening setting up his apartment to make it look like an artist lived there. He hung a few paintings on the walls, spread a drop cloth on the floor, and set up the easel with a canvas on it. He put the paints on the palette and then, trying to do what that guy Pollack did, spread some paint around, just kind of winged it at the canvas, letting it clump and drip. He used blue and yellow mostly, then threw in a little green and why not some red and black in the corners? He stood back and looked at it. Hey, he didn’t think it looked so bad, at least as good as Pollock’s shit.

Although he still felt like he had to work out a few details in his head, he didn’t think he’d have any trouble convincing Marissa he was Xan Evonov, the up- and- coming artist.

In the morning he walked several blocks to a coffee bar that had Internet terminals. He wanted to read more about Marissa, see if she mentioned where she was going to be over the next few days, but he started to panic when he saw a new entry up: i’m moving to prague. He thought she was moving now, which would’ve screwed up all his big plans, but he relaxed when he realized that it was just something she was talking about doing. Then, toward the bottom of the page, he saw the heading where i’ll be tonight, and underneath it Marissa had written: I’ll be checking out the greatest band in the world, Tone Def. They’re on at ten o’clock at Ke

Could she have possibly made things any easier for him? Not only did he know where she was going to be, he knew the exact time, no less.

For the next hour or two, Joh

At around ten, he showed up at the club, paid the five- dollar cover, and went inside. He looked around near the bar and didn’t see Marissa, and then he went farther in toward where the band was playing. Man, what shitty music. Was she serious with that “best band in the world” crap? Joh

Joh

At the perfect moment, when he sensed she was about to look away, he turned and gave her the Joh

He went over to her, maintaining lots of eye contact, and asked her if she wanted to get a drink at the bar, and naturally she said yes. He let her walk ahead of him, loving the way her little ass looked in those tight jeans. He liked the little tee she was wearing, too, how it showed the angel tattoo on her lower back. Tattoos on the lower back were always a good sign. He’d never met a girl with one of those who didn’t love to screw.

At the bar, he put his greatest asset to work- his irresistible charm. As he expected, she loved that he’d shortened his name to Xan, and saying that he’d call her Rissa from now on had been unpla

When the conversation got into art, he really hit his stride. It was obvious that she was thrilled to meet an artist, and it impressed her more than if he’d told her his last name was Trump. He dropped all the names of her favorite painters but did it in a casual way, like Wow, we both love the same paint ers, isn’t that a big coincidence? Man, she ate that shit right up. Every time he mentioned Pollock or van Gogh or Kahlo or whoever, he was one step closer to scoring. He knew so much about her, had so much information to drop, it almost seemed unfair. But then he reminded himself- she wasn’t just some i