City Lights

Josh lets out a sigh as he struggles to light his cigarette. The lighter's nearly dead, it's windy, and all in all, Josh is just suffering.
It takes a solid two minutes for him to get the damn thing to produce a weak flame. He shelters it from the wind with his hand, grumbling to himself as it finally lights. He puts the lighter safely back in his pocket as he leans against the railing of his balcony, his eyes watching the lights of the city in the distance. Josh doesn't know if he likes it or not.
He's leaning towards not, but he figures there's something to be admired here. Something. He just can't tell what it is. Taking a long drag of his cigarette, his mind wanders to home. England. Sure, maybe the air wasn't all that clean over there, but here he feels like he's choking at any given moment. The smog is an atrocity on the lungs, maybe even more than the tar he's pumping into them right now.
He didn't come here for himself, though. He'd never move to New York city for himself. He wasn't a city person. It wasn't in his blood.
Alex, though. Alex loved the city. Josh can't understand how one could love the city. Sure, people back home and his friends talk about how they'd like to visit the city, maybe they use the word love, but being in New York city is very different from the false reality that surrounded it. Josh hasn't seen a single person in the city who seems to actually enjoy being there. That confuses Josh more than anything. There's those stupid 'I love New York' shirts, but they're for tourists. No one wears them unironically. Josh actually owns one. Alex got it for him, but he never wears it.
Exhaling, he watches as the wind causes the smoke to disappear quickly. Josh feels like some kind of servant, feeding the giant smog beast that rules over the atmosphere. In his head, he quietly apologizes to Mother Nature.
He doesn't jump when he hears the sliding door open. He feels a hand on his shoulder, and he turns his head to see Alex. He's showered, dressed in pajamas already.
“Hey,” he smiles. Josh offers him a small smile.
“Hey.”
Alex leans on the free area of railing next to Josh, sighing contently as he watches the skyline.
“It's pretty,” he comments, and Josh shrugs. He doesn't feel like explaining his indifference. He takes another drag of his cigarette.
“How was work?” Josh asks, exhaling smoke.
“It was... y'know,” Alex says, folding his hands. Josh leans back and puts his cigarette out on the ashtray, located on the small table in front of the door. Really, there's not enough room for more than two people out here, let alone two people plus a table. Josh moves over as best he can to allow Alex more space, but the table causes a bit of an issue. Looking down, Josh notes the highway looks rather packed.
“At times like this, it kind of pays to take the train,” Alex smiles crookedly. Josh hums in agreement. He wasn't in favor of Alex working in the city. He wasn't in favor of anything that had to do with the city.
“I brought home food,” Alex says as he stretches. Josh winces at the sound of popping. Occupational hazard, he supposes. That's what being a construction worker gets you. A bit of muscle at first, and a lot of muscle and joint pain. Alex is at the halfway point, though. He's just starting to gain some noticeable muscle, but he still complains about the jabbing pain in his shoulders.
“Nice,” Josh replies, standing up straight. He keeps his hands tight around the railing.
“It's your favorite. Pizza,” Alex says as he wraps his arms around Josh's waist.
No, Josh thinks, not my favorite, but... close enough. It's the thought that counts.
“Thanks, love,” Josh says, leaning back into Alex's arms.
“No problem. Come on, let's eat. I'm starving,” Alex replies. He places a kiss to the back of Josh's neck, then leaves to set the table.
Josh sighs, almost woefully. No, he's not a fan of the city. He's been trying to convince Alex to move to England with him, but he's stubborn. Alex loves the city. He's convinced someone'll notice his voice and talent with a guitar and sweep him away into stardom, but Josh knows it's just not realistic. There's dozens, maybe hundreds of people living in those silhouettes in the distance that have the exact same dream Alex does. It's New York city; city of dreams and opportunities.
Infinite dreams, finite opportunities.
Josh loves Alex to death, but he just knows it's... unlikely, at best. He just doesn't have the heart to tell him. He doesn't want to crush his dreams, even if there are better opportunities out there for them. They wouldn't have to live in a shoebox in Queens next to the East River. Alex wouldn't have to work twelve hour shifts, and Josh wouldn't have to manage two jobs just to afford said shoebox. They could have a mostly comfortable life in England, Hell, they could have a decent life just about anywhere else.
Josh just can't do it. If this is what it takes to see Alex's eyes light up when he thinks of a new lyric, then so be it. If this is what it takes to hear Alex's songs carry quietly from the living room to the bedroom in the early morning, when he thinks Josh is still asleep, then so be it.
If this is what it takes for Alex to be happy, then so be it. He'll be here as long as Alex wants to be, dealing with the smog, the general unhappiness, and the crime that is the cost of an apartment.
Josh gives the city one last glance, then turns and walks inside.
He makes a mental note to buy a new lighter, but he'll forget and he'll be dealing with the shitty thing once again when he's standing out there tomorrow night, waiting for Alex to come home.