The National – Cherry Tree (Black Session)
Bryce rolled out of the cab somewhere uptown to attend a black light party. The apartment was full of a cluster of Eastern Europeans, mostly sitting in a circle on the wooden floor in the living room, white socks and neon shirts glowing. Nervous, itchy, he skidded around them to the kitchen, where the lone light in the apartment was on.
A skinny Swedish girl, crossfaded and with pink hair tips, stared wide-eyed back at him as they stuttered through a conversation. Bryce kept scratching his elbow and looking down or looking away or looking out the glass sliding doors.
Sitting down indiscreetly at the edge of the circle, Bryce wonders if it’s more noticeable to sit alone or to pretend to be in a cluster having a conversation without saying anything. He’s pondering his own antisocial neurosis and if it sprouts from too much time alone on the computer when suddenly someone’s asking him a question. “Don’t look at me,” he nearly whispers back, “I’m only breathing.”
[The Black Sessions are free. So is the New York Times Magazine feature on The National.]
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