Excerpt: Later, Skater: On Tour

Thursday, June 4, 2009
2:13PM

**Kalki Helaku posted some pictures to the group Skate or Die
**Kalki Helaku posted a global message on Blue Ghost: On Tour
**Kalki Helaku recieved a private message from David Orchard
>>>Thirteenth? Ouch. If you'd wiped out one more time I believe
it would have been, how the Japanese say? Sayounara.
**Kalki Helaku has blocked David Orchard

Casper,

Fuck! Fuck! FUUUUCK!

He's outright taunting me now? Doesn't he realize who he's messing with? He drags me out of my room after curfew, probably after spiking Darius' drinks at the club getting him in trouble, and he shows me what he shows me and David thinks he can tease me like that?

GODDAMNIT!!

I can't take this fucking shit anymore! The camera lights were set up just in all the wrong places on the lay. I told Mr. Rigdon during the warm ups before the event even fucking started that they were burning my eyes.

"They are going to be there for everyone, not just you, Kalki." He said.

I took off my sunglasses and glared at him. I could see him recoil when he caught glimpse of my yellow and red ugly eyes. "I'm an albino, dude! Haven't you figured that out yet? Seen me basically soak in suntan lotion before we do anything outside for a long time? Why the hell do you think they call me The Blue Ghost!?"

"You ain't the friendly ghost." One of the other skaters on the tour called down from the top of the half-pipe. I raised a middle finger without even looking up. "Up yours too, crybaby."

Before I could protest more, Mr. Rigdon told me that he would "look into it" which essentially meant he'd "do jack shit about it." And sure enough my run was a complete disaster.

If it wasn't some stationary trick, it was any wonder I pulled it off. I didn't finish any of my rail grinds, I wiped out while trying to side-board the two walls coming down the back side. And you know, Casper, I think I saw David laughing when I missed the curve in the high-ramp. Went right over the fucking back edge!

And why is that? Because I couldn't fucking see!

I panicked. What can I say?

The Blue Ghost was a total flop in, arguably, the biggest skate city in the United States.

It's any wonder I'm still on the tour and still heading to LAX here in an hour to get on a plane for Tokyo. Somehow, by the grace of God, or skating legend Rodeny Mullen, two people sucked worse than I did and got cut.

Rodregez and Jamal. The first guy is this Hispanic dude from Houston. He's really good, but he does the same routiene EVERY. SINGLE. TIME. He's got so used to it, a few missteps and the judges finally called him on it. The second guy decided on the half-pipe for the first time so far this Tour and spent more time on his knees than some celebrity slut.

So I surivived.

I haven't had the heart nor desire to call back home and tell mom the good and yet the bad news. I mean, she needs to know I'm leaving the country, even though it was kind of established I would when this all started. But now that it's actually time, I am kind of concerned. I know she's got a lot of crap going on back home with Mishka and the custody battle and all.

This isn't exactly the way I wanted to make it to this part of the Tour anyway though. Instead of being in the top five with my hands in the air, fists pumping, I'm more like dragging my limp leg behind me as I follow the rest of the pack screaming, "Hey, guys, wait up!"

And David.

What the fuck am I going to do about David.

It's bad enough that I'm so conflicted about what I feel for him, now I have him as a room mate -- hand selected room mate, because as we all know, he gets whatever the hell he wants. You know, I should have asked him if he could do something about those damn television lights. He probably could have got them moved like it was nothing.

"Television lights? Sure, Ghost, no problem. Hey you wanna grab a few beers and shoot each other in the ass with steriods afterwars?"

"Only if you strip and fuck me first! Ha! Ha!"

Okay, so maybe it wouldn't have gone quite like that, but I think you get my point. Right, Ollie?

See, what I don't get is does he think I'm not going to tell, even if he riles me up because he knows that I like him? Or is it because he thinks that because I did such a shit job here in Los Angeles skating, and my ass is on the line at the next event, maybe, just maybe, I'll take him up on his doping offer?

Is that really what it all boils down to? He wants a blood brother of sorts here on tour and he thinks I'm his man? That's fucked up. No, wait, the fact that I jumped on him, sucked him off, then let him fuck me raw in a public bathroom, BEFORE he now is asking me to be this guy, THAT'S even more fucked up!

GODDAMNIT!

What the hell am I doing out here?

I need to calm down.
I need to relax.
I need to just lay down and chill.

It's a long flight to Japan. Maybe that will simmer things down. I mean, maybe I'll come up with some brilliant answer that solves all of these problems. Just focusing on the skating isn't even close to being enough now. I'm in way deeper than that.

And I don't have anyone to help me.

--Kalki