It was a cold, dark night in the frigid cold of a New York winter. The wind blowing up the avenues, whipping up coats and down the center of the street. There was really no reason that the three of them should be standing, hunched over, in the doorway of a NYU building huddling for Warmth.
“Alright, This sucks. I don’t know why we have to fucking be out here. We have been walking the streets for three hours.”
“Really? Ya think Shayna? I don’t want to be out here either, but if we wait another half hour we are in the clear.”
“Let’s go back to Cozy Soup & Burger.”
“No. We have like, seventy five cents between us, and if that fucking waiter hits on me one more time I am going to slit his throat.”
Another half an hour and they were going up to the seventeenth floor in a warm elevator. The doors opened up to a wide hallway with the offering of three doors.
The one on the right reeked of stale cigarettes and you could smell the bourbon seeping from under the door.
The one on the left clearly had not been opened in years. It was the apartment the girls were heading toward. Only thing, they had to stop and greet the ferryman.
He was a spoiled skinny rat of a rich kid who’s father was drinking himself to death in the apartment next door. Who’s mother was locked up in some loony bin, and had been for some time, which was why the girls were headed to her apartment.
Jason, who lived in the crappiest of the three apartments was waiting for them when they walked in the door. It was kind of him to let them stay there.
“Fuck him, he needs us there so he doesnt fucking shoot himself in the head. He is lucky we need a place to crash.”
That was Charlee’s response every time Rebecca tried to make it all okay. Truth was, they were using the kid for his sadly empty apartment. And if they could get in there before he pulled them into his room, they were pretty much left alone. He hated going to his mother’s side of the apartment. Made him sad.
Tonite, dispite lying to him about working until one in the morning, he was still awake when they walked in, and he was ready, guitar in hand.
(To be continued)
Palace of Muse 