Author: Nicola
Rating: Mature/Adult (For usage of drugs, language and sex)
Disclaimer: Everythings mine except the ROSWELL names and song lyrics (They belong to THE DATSUNS!) Please ask my permission before posting anywhere other then RoswellFanatics (I'll generally say yes and be extremely flattered!
)Summary: Set in the 60's. Basically it's about...sex drugs and rock 'n roll.
~*~
Liz Brooklyn Parker was destined to be a troubled child. Her mother Nancy attempted suicide at least four times while pregnant and her father, before leaving, whispered to her (while she was still nestled in the womb) that it ran in the family not to succeed in anything.
Nancy regained hope in life after being in labour for twenty-six hours, while Liz seemed to have adopted their pessimistic values straight from birth. For the first two years she made it a point to cry twenty-four hours a day and stopped only when she was sucking her mother’s breast.
This no doubt foreshadowed her obsession for eating because as Liz grew she got to be quite fat. She inherited her mother’s full, black/brown hair which she wore long around her shoulders (so as to hide her double chin).
When she hit thirteen she was given the name Brownie. Until then she hadn’t been all that fussed with being fat but this now changed and she began running everyday until she was as slim as Penelope Cross—whom all the boys liked. But no matter what she tried she couldn’t loose her enormous backside.
It was the year of 1963—aged fifteen—when things really started to get interesting for Liz. She wasn’t beautiful but she had a quality that seemed to attract the males. She thought maybe it was her nonchalance and lack of morals. She was someone they could roll over and call out another girl’s name and she wouldn’t care.
Sex, drugs and rock ‘n roll was a familiar concept to her and soon became a life’s ambition.
~*~
“You won’t call me that young lady, you won’t fucking call me that!”
Liz looked up from the magazine she was reading and flicked the end of her cigarette. The ash fell to the linoleum floor. “What? A fucking candy ass?”
“Why you little—” Nancy came from her, her hands clenched in fists. They came down on Liz’s back hard. “What is wrong with you?!” she screamed. “I’m trying so hard! Can’t you see that? I’m trying so fucking hard!”
Liz jumped up and shoved her mother off her. “You’re trying?” she grabbed her jacket off the back of the chair. “That’s bullshit and I’m leaving.”
“That’s good because I’m kicking you out...you—you—you disrespectful little—” Nancy spat out. “Don’t come back this time either. I’m sick of picking your shit up after you. You want to choose a life like that? Well go ahead, I’m not having any part of it.”
As Liz backed away she said, “Oh and I suppose you’re a saint?” she was completely unaffected by her mother’s harsh words.
“I’m worth more than you ever will be. Get out of here if you’re going to act like a piece of trash.”
Liz went to her room and grabbed her old leather night bag and shoved some things into it. She had twenty-four dollars…that would have to be enough.
Outside her beat up car was waiting loaded with clothing and rubbish up to your knees. She chucked her bag in and started the engine. And started the engine. On the third try it revved to life and she was off, down the road towards…where-thefuck-ever.
~*~
“Maria I’m gone,” she said ten minutes later. She’d never leave anywhere without dragging her best friend with her. “I’m so done here, you know?” she lit up a cigarette. “You have to come with.”
Maria was lying on an orange towel in her back yard. Her purple bikini had sequins on it and the ice in her drink glistened in the sun. Her head was in the lap of some guy—Liz had never met him before. “Liz…Where are we gonna go?”
“Does it matter?” Liz looked down at the untied laces on her boots. “I have to leave.” She didn’t tell her about the argument with her mother. There was no use; Maria knew what it was like for them. “All I’m asking is: are you gonna come with or you gonna stay here and do shit all?”
Maria was wearing large circle glasses with yellow lenses. She pushed them to the top of her head and propped herself up on her elbows. “Darlin’ I’m not coming. You call me when you find somethin’ good and then I’ll come. But I just got that job…you know…at—?”
“The one at the supermarket?” she asked in disbelief.
“Yah,” Maria nodded. “There. You call me when you find something that might interest me, yeah?”
Liz shrugged. “Fine. Stay here”—she began backing away—“I’m off to see the world!”
“Yeah, yeah. Want to take a beer with you?” Maria tossed one at her and then waved. “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do.”
“Yeah…right.”
Liz drove all afternoon. She stopped only twice—once to go to a restroom and buy cigarettes, the other to pick up a cute hitch hiker with a crew cut.
The hitchhiker’s name was Jared and he had blue eyes and sparkly white teeth. He also had LSD so they had a short break at the first rest stop they came across.
He got off in Denver. “Le’me buy you a drink before you go on your way,” he said. “What’s ya hurry?”
“No hurry,” she replied and got out of the car.
They sat in a small pub filling their bodies with all kinds of substances late into the night.
The evening was made less enjoyable by Jared’s constant questions. “What’d ya leave home for anyway? You’re sixteen?”
“Eighteen,” Liz said with annoyance. She hated that she looked so young. “There wasn’t anything keeping me there. My mom was ready to hang me from the roof.”
“What’d ya do to ‘er?”
Liz shrugged and then took a sip of her beer. “We disagree on pretty much everything there is to disagree on, t’is all.”
When they were ready to leave Jared asked where she was going to spend the rest of the night. “You wanna stay with me?”
“Sure thing,” Liz replied.
Jared got a hotel room and after having less then extraordinary sex and after he’d fallen asleep, she used the shower, emptied his wallet and went on her way.
She tried to avoid reading road signs. Her plan was to simply head east towards New York. She was sure she’d find what she was looking for—what ever that may be—eventually.
She used some of her money on food at a small diner in a town just past Smoking Hill in Kansas. She didn’t stay there long because she was anxious to be on her way. Wherever she was going was calling to her.
She drove all day with her radio up loud, rock music blaring loudly. Then, once it was getting late into the evening something suddenly spluttered in the engine. Liz swore, “Oh fuck no! No, no, no!” and bounced in her seat, as if to urge it forward. Nevertheless the car came to dead halt on the side of a highway.
She sat there, tapping her fingers against the steering wheel for several minutes, wondering what the hell she was going to do now. Finally she decided she was just going to sleep and then sort it out in the morning. There was no way she felt like walking now.
She was woken up at seven AM by a cop tapping his knuckles on the window. “You aren’t allowed to stay here,” he said, “I suggest you get moving mam.”
She might have asked him for a ride but decided against it. That would probably just end badly.
After packing a few things in her bag she slid out of the car—in her mini shirt and go-go boots—and headed off down the highway. She felt like shit. The alcohol from the other night was definitely starting to catch up on her.
She ignored it.
Every time a car drove past she stuck her thumb out and shot her best pout at the driver. It was boiling hot and every time they ignored her, the worse it became. It didn’t help when they tooted appreciatively but still didn’t stop.
A couple of hours passed and she wasn’t walking so confidently anymore. Her feet hurt and her hair was sticking in the sweat on her temples. Her back was hunched forward slightly and she’d given up straightening up when cars drove past.
It was a noisy bus that finally pulled over and its sliding door popped open. A guy with light brown hair and blue eyes stuck his head out. “Where ya going sweet heart?”
She smiled and headed towards him. “Where you going, darlin’?”
“Kansas city,” he replied. “We’ve got a gig.”
“You’re a band?” her face lit up.
“Come on in,” he grinned. After he’d slammed the door behind them he asked her her name. “I’m Michael,” he said. “And this is Devils Gold.”
Liz looked around. There was a guy with grey hair driving the bus. He waved his hand distantly and murmured, “Names Jim.”
“Kyle,” said another guy. There were couches lining the sides and a table in the middle that everyone was crowded around. Curtains hid the back half of the bus.
Altogether three other guys and two girls occupied the area. Everyone seemed friendly enough but there were two—who grudgingly introduced themselves as Max and Tess—who seemed like real assholes. She was a beautiful blonde and he was absolutely gorgeous with long, thick, dark brown hair and a tanned body. He had no shirt on and obviously knew his muscular body was fantastic.
The only free seat was near them so she sat down with annoyance. She soon found out that Max was the lead singer, Michael guitarist #1, Kyle drummer, Alex guitarist #2. The other female was also blonde and she introduced herself as Isabel.
“Want a drink?” she asked. She was really nice.
“Have you heard our music before?” Alex asked.
“I’ve heard of you,” she replied, “and yeah—I think I’ve heard a song or two.”
“You like what you hear?”
“Sure.”
“We don’t need any fake groupies,” Max said rudely.
Liz gave him her angriest look. “Excuse me, but what the fucks your problem?”
Kyle put his arm around her shoulders and smiled welcomingly at her. “Don’t worry about him. Tell us about yourself babe.”
) to make it for us. 
