"Make Way" Part Two: Common

Nalani's room smells of cat food and cat piss from time to time, she's used to it. She owns two cats, adopting (or as she and most people would look at it, "saved") them rather than buying herself a new cat. Adoption to her is an idea of great significance because of the countless sheltered pets who've died due to the negligence of patrons who seek to go for the breeders.

The oldest cat has gray fur, with jelly for a belly that hangs and swings from left to right just by her motions; her name is Sissy (the adoption center named her after Sissy Spacek when seeing The Girls of Huntington House and Badlands) and she's, for the most part, still and keens the sight of boys in Nalani's room. The second and youngest cat is a solicitous sort, that it leaves an appealing impression for how animals hone many different personalities. Her name's Yuma, she's small, and is a black cat with white spots underneath her. Visitors get distracted with glee by the sight of her two front missing teeth, and her tiny rough tactile tongue sticking out of her mouth. She has more need than a loyal dog, the cat who meows every minute like it'll be her last. The love between Nalani and Yuma is, in fact, sacred.

Nalani watches The Office from Netflix to put herself to sleep. She paints rather well in a style that warps a variety of colors — like swirling ink forming mashes of purple, blue, yellow, red, green, pink, or whatever the hell... In these waves are thin white lines that flow similarly to dripping blood. She has pen pals whom send her small, cute illustrations and favors the modern artist, James Jean. Obvious inspirations come from Van Gough and Bosch. Cosmos by Sagan and A Brief History of Time by Hawkins remain as bibles to her fascination and love for time, space, and the universe. She grew up reading Harry Potter and finds more details and meanings from the books she has to seek into. She'll even listen to the readings from all the books, or listen to podcasts centering famous serial killers during her working hours. She'll listen to Death Cab for Cutie, Brand New, and Julia Baker (to just name a few) and embrace the poetry by the beat.

There are times when she'll find a reason to feel low, but somehow later in the day find some kind of resolve. The resolve is usually food, she cooks. Especially a mean grilled cheese sandwich that's made with soy yogurt cheese.

Talking to someone that isn't a close friend seems to be a daring attempt. She'll overthink a conversation moments after and from there on begins anxiety and thoughts of loneliness. Nalani is sensitive, but sharp — working in the film industry as a compositor just a few days after graduating. At her office space, surrounded by the small batch of compositors, while listening to some podcast, she'll think about a few things, but two essential thoughts...

1) Lunch.

2) I don't know, man.

That second thought kind of just revolves around the idea of being this compositor for as long as it'll suit?

Bray was a suburban boy till he moved into his father's apartment of 77 years. Its high ceilings and chip painted walls absorb some excruciating heat. He was the kind of teen who knew everyone but really had four close friends. He ran for cross-country because he wanted to lose weight and couldn't catch a football or kick a soccer ball for the life of him. He performed in the Drama Club, where he had a crush on the leading girl, Chasity Magrold. He made people laugh, and professors angry, but he took one thing very seriously and it wasn't math, science or the books.

He loves films. He saw One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest" at eight, and went to Blockbusters every Tuesday to rent every Best Picture Oscar winner, and then became more aware of obscure pictures, foreign pictures, and the grindhouse pictures.

"The fuck is El Topo?" asked Mickey Mosblume.

"It's a cool movie I just saw — like a western, but it's, um... it's a different kind of western — you know what? Forget it, Mike." Bray said.

"You think JR'll get more threes than Melo, tonight?"

In the last five in a half years living in Brooklyn, he absorbed a different kind of attitude with people. Film school made him at times, condescending, meticulous and yet, passionate about making a movie. He writes stories he convinces himself could never get made. He wants to direct pictures with flame the way Howard Hawks did, and Pedro Almodovar and Marty Scorsese do, now. There's a competitive ego in him, he finds reasons to contemplate and judge from time to time rather than accept the way of things. The most complex relationship he's ever had is with his father, whose way of communicating is by talking about gas price comparisons and his mother's medical condition.

In high school, he wanted to be liked. In college, he wanted to make something of himself... and be liked.

He isn't exactly a charmer the way he'd like to be with women, such as a young Burt Reynolds. Though he's made sincere acclaims around a woman, and he'll day by day, often so, think about sex. His friends called him a lover boy, and his flings would call him "territorial" or "romantic". It was probably because after a woman rejected him or he ended a fling after three to six months, he'd hibernate into a depressive state.

Perhaps that's what Nalani Jola and Bray Alvadra have in common. They're soft to rejection, or just the word, itself. They overthink and ponder possibilities that go beyond certainty.

One time, Nalani was at a housewarming party, conversing with a guy she had only seen twice. Their dialogue was the subject of shows you'd watch, before going to sleep. Excitement was shared, mutual opinions were expressed, though the guy had noticed a close friend enter the house, and he excused himself for some time. Nalani spent a day wondering whether she was too confident, or said more than what the guy had bargained for.

Bray had a crush on his best friend, Samantha Albrigue. He asked her out to prom and she thrusted herself at him with thrill. They were close, but too close, and not in the way Bray had hoped for. She found him gullible, and endearing, so the relationship was a respected one. She was aware of the sensitivity to rejection, but it did not alter her feelings for him, it only filled her sympathy. Bray taking her to prom was like a 47 stair gap to "'doing this right". He considered too many possibilities in his head, studied the messages she'd sent him that displayed her restlessness for prom night. There you have it.

Nalani was a Queens girl, while Bray was a Long Islander, who in his own right, considers himself a Brooklyn kid. They're Ecuadorian since both their mothers were born and raised in Guayaquil. They adore their pets (Bray owns a mixed breed dog since he was nine). They both wonder a lot and love the idea of wandering. It would take about three years of college for the two of them to be in the same studio, and two in a half months later for the two of them to want one another.

So it starts.