“The code of the street is understood, mostly, through the fashions of the youth.”
There are journalists living in Stereoport. There’s a tiny print broadside that gets produced every day. On the weekends, they run a double spread – half of it on clothes and music. Those who don’t live in Stereoport say it’s all the city has left.
It is overrun by it’s youth.
There are quiet people putting together research on the city. Living just under the radar, their clothes set to match and their attitude and accent clear enough to get through the day. At night they go home and put together the stories they see throughout the day. The struggle for internet access, pay the fees, write the articles that people around the world want to see.
She is one of them.
She is putting together a book.
At the moment, she has no name in the city. No real job. It’s been a month a half and all she does is go to the clubs at night and take pictures that they can not see her take. She stares out of her apartment window and jots down what she sees from there. A quick jog to the corner store, a slow crawl down the highway’s edge.
She is employed to be a perfect illusion. To live and work and place as a citizen of Stereoport. A hard task when after a while, everyone will always find out your name, figure out your life. It’s a big city but it isn’t big enough.
It is never big enough to hide.
People who don’t live in Stereoport don’t understand it. The rest of the Southern Coast citizens are too busy trying to keep their tiny new nation afloat, too busy trying to fix the technologies they were left with, too busy trying to keep up their trade with foreign places. Stereoport? The opposite.
They work with what they have, take what they can get. Move on and move forward.
It is what her book is about. From skyscraper tall building to binocular eyes on the street. It is exactly what her book is about.
So first, she writes about the fashion.