Status: hiatus.
It's Worse Than You Think
Marshall
My breath hitched in my throat, causing the glass window which I currently had my face pressed up against, to fog slightly. Grinning at my own reaction because for the last few hours I've been literally twitching with excitement, I hastily wiped it away with the sleeve of my black sweatshirt.
I’ve never been to Chicago, hell I’ve never even been anywhere remotely close to this area of the United States. I think the farthest I’ve ever gone is like fucking Texas or something and that certainly wasn't anything special. Which is probably one of the main reasons as to why all of this is so overwhelming.
The city lights reflecting off the yellow taxi cab I was in, the people walking around even though it was well past eleven in the evening, the sounds of cars honking, the smell of the rain and perfume so strong that I could almost taste it. The ads for lame fast food places and restaurants that are in Oregon seem so much more exciting then they probably should.
Right. From now on, I’m referring Chicago as the land of opportunity. Just being here, completely on my own for the first time in my life; while it feels scary, I’m also really fucking excited. I’ll get a job, earn my own money, and find somewhere to live that I can call home. Be an adult. And hopefully along with all of this, I’ll have an adorable boyfriend, too? I don’t think that’s asking for too much; after all: land of opportunity, remember? There's got to be loads of people here that'd be at least remotely interested in me.
Even the excitement of my surroundings couldn’t keep me fully functioning. I’ve been awake for too long, been on too many airplanes and involved in too many layovers. Those parts of this whole thing are not fun. I had to drive myself to the airport at some ungodly hour that I don’t even remember, considering the state my mom was in when it was time for me to catch the plane. Honestly, I’m not even completely sure that she knows I’m long gone. Fuck her, though. It’ll probably be a nice surprise for her when she sees my bed empty and my room deserted. I'll try not to be too bitter about it, though. I want to be apathetic.
I glanced at the taxi driver for the umpteenth time as we traveled down the street, and to a hotel. Seriously, this guy hasn’t said a single word to me since I’ve entered this car, and I really just want to get out of here. My eyes raked over the building that I’d be staying in for who knows how fucking long, and I pursed my lips. It didn’t look that bad, really. But looks can be deceiving, can’t they? It could be a shithole inside, and I wouldn’t even know.
I did do some research before coming here, because you know, I’m that brilliant, and with the money I have saved up I can afford to stay here for a while. Hopefully, things will go as planned, and I won’t need to.
He came to a sudden stop, causing me to jerk forward and for the seatbelt to dig into my chest. I raised an eyebrow in his direction, but once again, he was hardly giving me a moment’s notice. Fuck you, thanks so much for the big welcome to this new city. If all the people here are like him, I’m so screwed. I gave him some twenties, and sat patiently waiting for my change. I was not doing that whole, ‘Oh please, keep the change. It’s no problem at all, and you were such a joy that I don’t even mind giving you extra money’. This guy’s a creep, and I want all my Goddamn money.
I muttered a quick thanks, grabbed my deep red suitcase, and slammed the yellow cab door behind me.
I walked up to the front desk, feeling extremely awkward in the process. And I don’t even know why. I’m nineteen, not eleven Goddamnit. I really need to suck it up.
“Excuse me,” I spoke up, staring at the back of some girls’ head behind the counter.
She turned around, “How can I help you?”
I’m looking to buy a new television set, what do you think? “I have reservations for room 218,” I told her, offering a small smile.
“Right,” she said, and typed away on her computer, and from what I could see, a computer that was about fifty years old. “Marshall Dolan?” she confirmed, looking up at me. I nodded, and she handed me the room key, a big hunk of blue plastic. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Dolan.”
I turned away, and headed down to my room, her words still ringing in my ears. Mr. Dolan. I don’t think I’ve ever been called that in my entire life.
After entering the room and throwing my suitcase onto the floor, I sighed and threw myself onto the full size bed. I turned on my back and took a look around the room, eventually coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t half bad. I’m not one of those people who have to have things perfect, and clean. I just need some place to sleep, and some place to take a piss. That’s high class living, right there.
I thought about calling Blake, but decided against it. I’ll just have to wait until morning, because I’m sure that it’s way too early back home in Portland. I smiled softly thinking about my best friend. All the best memories I have as a kid are with him. He’s like the brother I never had but always wanted, and it killed me to leave him, but it’s what’s best for me. I had to get away from my mom, my nonexistent father. I needed to get out of there, because it was destroying me. Even if Blake couldn’t completely see or understand that.
My stomach growled suddenly, and I rummaged around in my pocket to pull out a granola bar that I’ve been sitting on for about ten hours. I stared at it for a moment, and allowed a frown to tug on my lips.
I better get a fucking job.
I’ve never been to Chicago, hell I’ve never even been anywhere remotely close to this area of the United States. I think the farthest I’ve ever gone is like fucking Texas or something and that certainly wasn't anything special. Which is probably one of the main reasons as to why all of this is so overwhelming.
The city lights reflecting off the yellow taxi cab I was in, the people walking around even though it was well past eleven in the evening, the sounds of cars honking, the smell of the rain and perfume so strong that I could almost taste it. The ads for lame fast food places and restaurants that are in Oregon seem so much more exciting then they probably should.
Right. From now on, I’m referring Chicago as the land of opportunity. Just being here, completely on my own for the first time in my life; while it feels scary, I’m also really fucking excited. I’ll get a job, earn my own money, and find somewhere to live that I can call home. Be an adult. And hopefully along with all of this, I’ll have an adorable boyfriend, too? I don’t think that’s asking for too much; after all: land of opportunity, remember? There's got to be loads of people here that'd be at least remotely interested in me.
Even the excitement of my surroundings couldn’t keep me fully functioning. I’ve been awake for too long, been on too many airplanes and involved in too many layovers. Those parts of this whole thing are not fun. I had to drive myself to the airport at some ungodly hour that I don’t even remember, considering the state my mom was in when it was time for me to catch the plane. Honestly, I’m not even completely sure that she knows I’m long gone. Fuck her, though. It’ll probably be a nice surprise for her when she sees my bed empty and my room deserted. I'll try not to be too bitter about it, though. I want to be apathetic.
I glanced at the taxi driver for the umpteenth time as we traveled down the street, and to a hotel. Seriously, this guy hasn’t said a single word to me since I’ve entered this car, and I really just want to get out of here. My eyes raked over the building that I’d be staying in for who knows how fucking long, and I pursed my lips. It didn’t look that bad, really. But looks can be deceiving, can’t they? It could be a shithole inside, and I wouldn’t even know.
I did do some research before coming here, because you know, I’m that brilliant, and with the money I have saved up I can afford to stay here for a while. Hopefully, things will go as planned, and I won’t need to.
He came to a sudden stop, causing me to jerk forward and for the seatbelt to dig into my chest. I raised an eyebrow in his direction, but once again, he was hardly giving me a moment’s notice. Fuck you, thanks so much for the big welcome to this new city. If all the people here are like him, I’m so screwed. I gave him some twenties, and sat patiently waiting for my change. I was not doing that whole, ‘Oh please, keep the change. It’s no problem at all, and you were such a joy that I don’t even mind giving you extra money’. This guy’s a creep, and I want all my Goddamn money.
I muttered a quick thanks, grabbed my deep red suitcase, and slammed the yellow cab door behind me.
I walked up to the front desk, feeling extremely awkward in the process. And I don’t even know why. I’m nineteen, not eleven Goddamnit. I really need to suck it up.
“Excuse me,” I spoke up, staring at the back of some girls’ head behind the counter.
She turned around, “How can I help you?”
I’m looking to buy a new television set, what do you think? “I have reservations for room 218,” I told her, offering a small smile.
“Right,” she said, and typed away on her computer, and from what I could see, a computer that was about fifty years old. “Marshall Dolan?” she confirmed, looking up at me. I nodded, and she handed me the room key, a big hunk of blue plastic. “Enjoy your stay, Mr. Dolan.”
I turned away, and headed down to my room, her words still ringing in my ears. Mr. Dolan. I don’t think I’ve ever been called that in my entire life.
After entering the room and throwing my suitcase onto the floor, I sighed and threw myself onto the full size bed. I turned on my back and took a look around the room, eventually coming to the conclusion that it wasn’t half bad. I’m not one of those people who have to have things perfect, and clean. I just need some place to sleep, and some place to take a piss. That’s high class living, right there.
I thought about calling Blake, but decided against it. I’ll just have to wait until morning, because I’m sure that it’s way too early back home in Portland. I smiled softly thinking about my best friend. All the best memories I have as a kid are with him. He’s like the brother I never had but always wanted, and it killed me to leave him, but it’s what’s best for me. I had to get away from my mom, my nonexistent father. I needed to get out of there, because it was destroying me. Even if Blake couldn’t completely see or understand that.
My stomach growled suddenly, and I rummaged around in my pocket to pull out a granola bar that I’ve been sitting on for about ten hours. I stared at it for a moment, and allowed a frown to tug on my lips.
I better get a fucking job.