Brian Snuff – A Potted History of Hardcore
I go through phases with smoke & alcohol. Like an emotional history that ebbs with the tide. Like how some days listening to Autechre is life-affirming and other days it makes me feel like I’m trapped in a cellar full of zombies.
I push the window out and open on the nighttime and then light my roll-up. I can see the reflection of my lighter sparking to life and disappearing again close to my face. I lean out a little. The air is cooling on my face but the back of my neck is still weirdly warm from catching the spring sun.
I have a wary tone. I don’t know why.
NIKITA: You know that thing that you said you’d do?
I take a long drag, searching the clouds for stars.
NIKITA: I don’t know whether you should…
JEANIE: What thing?
They’re both sat on my bed, cross-legged. I can’t sit like that anymore. I’m only 29. How did that happen?
SNUFTY: One of those things that women ask men to do. Even feminists apparently.
JEANIE: Get rid of spiders?
SNUFTY: Don’t bring me spiders. Scuttley fuckers.
JEANIE: Are you a feminist?
I’m not sure whether she’s asking me or Niki. Niki doesn’t answer, neither do I. Or maybe Niki nodded but I didn’t see.
JEANIE: Is it a sex thing?
SNUFTY: Yes. She asked me to never ever have sex with her.
NIKITA: He’s joking.
I sometimes think she underestimates Jeanie’s ability to pick up on my sarcasm.
SNUFTY: Oh, but you did. With your eyes.
I remember the first time I kissed her in a moment of drunken bravery. No tongues. Nothing to write home about. I ran away straight after, or at least walked away quickly. I didn’t wait to see her face. I wasn’t ready for the knowing apologetic smile. I’m sorry I made you infatuated with me. It was an accident. I was just being me. I don’t regret it for a moment. I’m so rarely brave.
NIKITA: Did you watch that film?
She pointed to her copy of Upstream Colour which was sat on the table.
SNUFTY: Yeah. You were right. I have a new affinity with pigs.
I stubbed my rollie out on the ledge and pulled the window shut.
JEANIE: You’re changing the subject.
Nikita smirked, her eyes flashing with bewitching secrets.
NIKITA: You don’t know what the subject is.