Last Chance

The next morning, Frank woke up to a quiet house. Apparently, his mom had given up on driving him to school.

Frank groaned and pulled himself from his bed. He allowed himself a minute to ponder the weird voicemail from the night before, then he scavenged up an outfit for the day.

Since his mom wasn’t going to enforce the whole going to school thing, Frank had the entire day to waste away. It was Friday, and he wanted to find the best way to give his parents a big “fuck you”. This time, smoking in a theater just wasn’t going to cut it.

It was around nine when the idea struck Frank, and he knew he had to go with it. Grabbing his keys, cigarettes, and jacket, Frank bounded out the door without bothering to lock it behind him.

The air outside was silky smooth in Frank’s lungs, and the sky was a brilliant blue. The ground was damp, and the air held a bite that nipped at Frank’s exposed neck and fingers as he made his way to his car.

He rolled down the windows as he drove, loving the way the roar of the wind mixed with the static of his radio. It took him thirty minutes to get to the subway station, and by then, Frank’s skin was pink and he was happier than he’d been in months. He figured his good mood probably had to do with the fact that he hadn’t had to deal with his parents this morning.

Frank flashed his frequent riders card, and hummed as he rode down the escalator into the dark station. He’d actually managed to time everything right, seeing as the train he wanted had just pulled up and was letting out the dregs of last night’s party goers.

Frank found himself squashed between two commuters on the first half of the ride, but he was glad to at least have gotten a chair.

When they reached the city, Frank took in the skyline with wide eyes. It’d been years since his last trip- which had been when Mikey’s dad had taken them to see a concert- and the skyscrapers seemed infinitely taller now. They cut the sky like jagged glass, gleaming and glittering against the blue silk. Frank’s body immediately itched to be out there already, and he bounced in his seat for the next twenty minutes.

Finally, Frank picked a random stop and jumped off the train. He figured he’d be deep and lost enough here, and he smiled twistedly to himself.

The station was chaos, and Frank picked a stream of people and let them led him to the exit turnstiles. When he was through, he immediately whacked his pack of cigarettes against his palm before placing one between his lips.

He got onto the escalator, and watched the dark of the station be eaten away by daylight. It made Frank smile to himself.

He was in the midst of lighting it when someone bumped into him, hard enough for the flame to jerk from existence, and Frank to stumble a bit on his step.

Pale hands were around his waist in a second.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” a voice chimed. Frank glanced up, squinting against the light. He just had a moment to take in dark hair, a hurried expression, and swooping lips before the guy was rushing on, wiggling past the people on the stairs in front of Frank.

Frank could still feel were the guy’s hands had been, just above his hipbones, and the spot was tingling. Frank shook his head at himself, lit his cigarette, and dismounted the escalator.

Darting across the street, Frank finally separated from the crowd. He didn’t know where to go first, but he wanted to walk every street and see as much of the life he’d been missing out on as possible.

The cold was killer, but Frank just wrapped his jacket tighter around himself. He’d mastered smoking without using his hands, so he just puffed away as he walked, people watching. He got a few stares from tourists, and he figured it was because he looked like he’d been in some kind of crash- with his disheveled hair and bruised face.

Frank stopped in a few stores, but since he didn’t want to waste any money, he didn’t buy anything. He also went down to the waterfront and watched dingy supply boats, and fancier tourist ships slink by.

He picked one of the countless pizza places, and ate lunch. He didn’t really know what to do then, seeing that none of the good bars opened for another few hours.

Frank wandered down toward ground zero and watched workers mill about in the pit, feeling vaguely sick.

Then, he sat on a bench for awhile. His cigarette pack was running low, and his feet hurt a bit, but he refused to let that bother him. This was the freest he’d been in years. It’d felt like being naked for awhile, being on his own, but Frank had grown used to it in the last hours.

Around four, Frank’s phone rang. With a glance down at the screen, Frank made a noise of disgust and shoved it back into his pocket. It was his mom. Twenty minutes later, it was his dad too. They both left voicemails, both along the lines of “where the fuck are you?”.

Soon, his phone literally would not shut up, and people on the streets started giving him even weirder looks, so Frank turned the cell all the way off. He thought about catching a train back home, but then his mind filled with images of his mom screaming, and his dad whipping his fists around, and he decided he wanted to stay in the city for as long as possible.

Frank popped another cigarette into his mouth and lit it. His head was getting light from the buzz he only got when he chain-smoked, and he loved it.

He was just wandering now, bouncing down new streets happily, and getting more and more lost. It was almost dark now, and the sidewalks and subways stations were filling with people who were getting out of their fancy city jobs.

Frank dashed across roads and in front of cars in order to get out of the worst of the mess. Finally, he found himself on a brightly lit street. It was in one of those neighborhoods filled with small restaurants and quaint bars and students, and it was perfect.

Frank grinned, then stuffed his hands in his pockets and strode purposefully down the walkway, eyeing the different places. He knew they wouldn’t card in the bars here, seeing as half of their business would have to be from twenty year old college kids, off to party their parent’s money away.

Frank picked a bar at random, and shoved open the door. A bell charmed, but Frank could barely hear it over the music that barraged his ears. He kept his face blank as he weaved between the occupied tables to the counter. There were high bar stools there, and Frank struggled for a moment to hop up onto one. When he was firmly seated, he motioned to the bartender and ordered. The man gave him a knowing look, but shuffled about fixing the drinks anyways.

When the bartender slid the shots in front of him, Frank tilted back two before they’d even had time to make a wet ring on the wood of the bar. The sting made him grit his teeth, and he waited a few minutes before downing a third. He’d never had a taste for liquor of any kind, but it did the job quicker than cheap beer, and that was what counted.

He was reaching for his fourth (and last shot), when someone took the seat next to him and leaned toward him.

“If you’re not too drunk already, could I buy you a drink?”

Frank sucked down the shot, and then turned a dazzling smile to the guy next to him. His eyes widened with recognition when he saw that it was the man from the escalators earlier, but kept his face cool.

“Of course.”