Status: Updated as soon as possible
A Daydream Away
Chapter 2
Alex's POV
I silently watched the dark haired man's receading figure, admiring how well his dark jeans hugged his ass.
I allow myself some of the finer things in life, leave me alone.
"Jack." I whispered after the small group of people dispursed, allowing the one syllable word to play on my tongue, liking how nicely it did so.
I silently scanned the park-goers, seeing that the amount of people had slowly begun to dwindle, meaning that now would be a good time to stop performing. I picked up my worn out collection cup so I could count today's loot, noticing a ten amonst the smaller bills and coins. I smiled to myself, knowing that it was Jack who had left it for me.
I grabbed the bill with Hamiltons's face on it.
"Thank's, Jacky." I said to myself before pocketing the green piece of paper. I then counted the rest of today's earnings, totalling it to a whopping twenty six dollars, and put that, along with a note saying "you suck", into a pocket in my guitar case.
Oh, if only you knew little piece of paper, if only you knew.
Gathering together the rest of my items, which wasn't a whole lot, I traipsed out of the park and to wherever had people milling around who would listen to my music and take pity on me by giving me their loose change.
Hey, maybe if I was lucky, someone would throw me a 'free food item at blank fast food restaurant' coupon.
Life, as you can tell, hasn't been too good to me for quite a while. After graduation, instead of being shipped off to a generic college to get a generic career and live a generic life, I decided that it was high time I put my music talents to good use. My parents, being the graciously supportive people that they were, threw me out. I'm pretty sure that my sexuality also had something to do with their sudden decision to kick their only son out, but I'm not too sure I think with pure sarcasm.
Since then, I've couch jumped, slept on the streets, lived in homeless shelters, and other places of the likes. Right now, my "house" was a nice piece of cardboard and a few tattered blankets in an alley. The last time I've slept in a safe place was, well, before I was tossed out.
That was four years ago.
Four years of no house. Four years of no family.
I always believed that I would hit it big, despite the fact that all I had was an old, worn out guitar that my brother Tom gifted me, and my voice. I would hit the top of the charts and shove my success into the faces of those who didn't believe in me. Despite all of my high hopes, acoustic music doesn't have the same growing interest as pop and hip hop, leading a lot of recording labels to ignore my attempts at trying to impress them.
Now, I use my faithful acoustic and my vocals to make sure I can live another day. I've been saving up since I started, and am close to getting nowhere. I don't want to waste the money on a cheap motel, because, after maybe three nights, I'd be broke and would be back to the streets that I've come to call home. There are other things that I have done, things that I really do not want to even think about, just to get money. Though they, er, payed better, I was afraid that some day I would end up chained up in someone's basement.
Yeah, no thank you.
Maybe if I were to join a band things would be a bit different. The only thing is, I don't know anyone who could play anything remotely close to the instruments most commonly seen in bands.
I wonder if Jack played anything.
Suddenly I realized a sharp pain brush across my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. Blinking my eyes a few times in confusion, I realized that I'd run into a pole.
Smoothe, 'Lex.
As the deep thoughts regressed to the back of my mind, I realized that my feet had brought me to a gas station. Noticing the defiant noises that my stomach was making, I pushed through the glass doors. Seeing at how well I made out this morning, I decided that I would treat myself to some coffee.
As I was walking out, coffee in hand, I was deciding on where my next "venue" was going to be when a rough hand grabbed the back of my hoodie, causing me to drop the caffeinated beverage.
"Nice to see you again, Alex," someone breathed into my ear, making me shudder. It wasn't the sensation of the hot feeling that brought about the involuntary movement, it was the memories of who that voice belonged to.
Shit.
I silently watched the dark haired man's receading figure, admiring how well his dark jeans hugged his ass.
I allow myself some of the finer things in life, leave me alone.
"Jack." I whispered after the small group of people dispursed, allowing the one syllable word to play on my tongue, liking how nicely it did so.
I silently scanned the park-goers, seeing that the amount of people had slowly begun to dwindle, meaning that now would be a good time to stop performing. I picked up my worn out collection cup so I could count today's loot, noticing a ten amonst the smaller bills and coins. I smiled to myself, knowing that it was Jack who had left it for me.
I grabbed the bill with Hamiltons's face on it.
"Thank's, Jacky." I said to myself before pocketing the green piece of paper. I then counted the rest of today's earnings, totalling it to a whopping twenty six dollars, and put that, along with a note saying "you suck", into a pocket in my guitar case.
Oh, if only you knew little piece of paper, if only you knew.
Gathering together the rest of my items, which wasn't a whole lot, I traipsed out of the park and to wherever had people milling around who would listen to my music and take pity on me by giving me their loose change.
Hey, maybe if I was lucky, someone would throw me a 'free food item at blank fast food restaurant' coupon.
Life, as you can tell, hasn't been too good to me for quite a while. After graduation, instead of being shipped off to a generic college to get a generic career and live a generic life, I decided that it was high time I put my music talents to good use. My parents, being the graciously supportive people that they were, threw me out. I'm pretty sure that my sexuality also had something to do with their sudden decision to kick their only son out, but I'm not too sure I think with pure sarcasm.
Since then, I've couch jumped, slept on the streets, lived in homeless shelters, and other places of the likes. Right now, my "house" was a nice piece of cardboard and a few tattered blankets in an alley. The last time I've slept in a safe place was, well, before I was tossed out.
That was four years ago.
Four years of no house. Four years of no family.
I always believed that I would hit it big, despite the fact that all I had was an old, worn out guitar that my brother Tom gifted me, and my voice. I would hit the top of the charts and shove my success into the faces of those who didn't believe in me. Despite all of my high hopes, acoustic music doesn't have the same growing interest as pop and hip hop, leading a lot of recording labels to ignore my attempts at trying to impress them.
Now, I use my faithful acoustic and my vocals to make sure I can live another day. I've been saving up since I started, and am close to getting nowhere. I don't want to waste the money on a cheap motel, because, after maybe three nights, I'd be broke and would be back to the streets that I've come to call home. There are other things that I have done, things that I really do not want to even think about, just to get money. Though they, er, payed better, I was afraid that some day I would end up chained up in someone's basement.
Yeah, no thank you.
Maybe if I were to join a band things would be a bit different. The only thing is, I don't know anyone who could play anything remotely close to the instruments most commonly seen in bands.
I wonder if Jack played anything.
Suddenly I realized a sharp pain brush across my face, snapping me out of my thoughts. Blinking my eyes a few times in confusion, I realized that I'd run into a pole.
Smoothe, 'Lex.
As the deep thoughts regressed to the back of my mind, I realized that my feet had brought me to a gas station. Noticing the defiant noises that my stomach was making, I pushed through the glass doors. Seeing at how well I made out this morning, I decided that I would treat myself to some coffee.
As I was walking out, coffee in hand, I was deciding on where my next "venue" was going to be when a rough hand grabbed the back of my hoodie, causing me to drop the caffeinated beverage.
"Nice to see you again, Alex," someone breathed into my ear, making me shudder. It wasn't the sensation of the hot feeling that brought about the involuntary movement, it was the memories of who that voice belonged to.
Shit.