the club // kennedy
“A cheap place or a—?” He started, but cut himself short. Prying would’ve probably been frowned at, and he decided that he really didn’t need to know that badly. There’s another moment when Kennedy wondered if he should hand out some money— he had enough— but all he had in his pocket was plastic. No, it was better if he just let it be.
“There’s a cheap hotel a few blocks from here, if you go down this street. It’s called Plaza Inn or something. Can’t miss it, there’s a big, bright sign with the name slapped in front.” Kennedy took another chance to pause, toeing between feeling guilty and not. “Will you be alright?”
He didn't know what the man was suggesting by his pause after his suggestion of a cheap place, though he assumed he was going to ask about the shelter. It was a nice surprise that the man didn't poke around in his business. Privacy was something he was seldom allowed to keep.
"Just down this street?" he repeated slowly, wanting just to get himself surrounded by four walls with a roof over his head. He'd likely take the floor over the bed, as usual, but an insulated floor was always nicer than concrete or dirt.
"---Yeah... I just need to, uh, breathe for a while."
