She was technically homeless, having been kicked out by her parents after quitting school (“They just didn’t agree with a lot of things about me”). She’d found the college she could afford a waste of time. She’d gotten into the well-regarded Rhode Island School of Design, and then learned that she couldn’t afford to go. A little more than two years ago, Halsey was not actually Halsey, she was Ashley Nicolette Frangipane, a 19-year-old community-college dropout, couch-surfing between basements in her native New Jersey and the Bed-Stuy/Lower East Side hovels of a badass, tatted-up crowd of “degenerate stoners” she met through her boyfriend two years before that, back when she was an arty, misfit high school kid taking AP classes and roaming the halls covered in paint. She’s also, perhaps not coincidentally, really good at getting into stuff. 'Silence of the Lambs': The Complete Buffalo Bill Story She leans back on a picnic blanket and takes a deep swig from her Solo cup. “I’m really good at getting out of stuff, it appears,” she says. I’m not going to do that.’ It’s like a blind date, except that I’m not going to spend the entire time wondering if I’m going to be forced to have sex with you later.” Or that she has previously been detained by the police for drinking in the park – she ran, but left behind a backpack filled with schoolwork bearing her name – but has never yet been arrested.
“And I was like, ‘Fuck, no,'” she says with a scowl.
Or that the original plan for today, dreamed up by her record label, was for us to go for a romantic boat ride. Like the fact that the last time she was here in Central Park, she was with an ex-boyfriend who was coming down from heroin and just wanted to lie in the sun for six hours. It’s one in the afternoon, and Halsey is getting buzzed on Veuve Clicquot rosé and telling me things that maybe she shouldn’t.
0 kommentar(er)
