The wind wisped up along the tall buildings, blowing paper, plastic and other garbage left by humanity among the streets far below; occasionally managing to climb higher before being swept among the bustling streets once more. Detroit was busier than one would like, especially if they were prone to docile, desolate lives. But Tobias didn’t mind. At least, not as much as he cared to admit aloud to his mother. But he kept that to himself. This was the place he had practically grown up in, after all; so he supposed he should enjoy it to some extent.
Smoke exhaled from his lungs as he watched the people below in the early morning sun as they frolicked to and from their homes and places of work. This brought him more solace than he liked to admit. He always liked to wonder what each and every one of those people were doing; where they were coming from, their home lives, their friends and family. He supposed it to be a little odd, but given his current situation, it helped him cope. With what, he still wasn’t quite sure. But he guessed he’d figure it out, eventually.
Putting the cigarette in his hand out on the stone roof of which he stood upon, Tobias turned, grabbing first his hidden can of body spray he kept on the roof of the apartment complex as so his mother wouldn’t smell the smoke entangled on his tall, slender frame (his mother didn’t know that he smoked, and didn’t need to know if not for the storm and repercussion he’d get from her finding out despite him being over eighteen) and using a substantial amount before hiding it away, the shaggy haired brunette made his way down the long and winding stairs until he reached his floor and entered. Aside from a few residents coming or leaving for their day to day activities, everything seemed quite barren. Good, just how he liked it.
His mother was already sitting at the kitchen table, home from her overnight job and relaxing with a hot cup of coffee in her hands as she seemed to try and force herself to stay awake. Toby hummed, passing her only to give a one armed hug and receiving one in return.
“People watching before school again?” the woman hummed as she took another sip of her coffee.
“Yeah,” was his one-worded response as he headed to his room; their cat, Clair, padding alongside him and meowing until he stopped to scoop up the feline and give her a few scratches on the head before dropping her off at their raggedy old couch as he passed. Her tail flickered to show her annoyance, yet swiftly went back to her lazy duties as he entered his room.
He felt like nineteen was a little old to be graduating highschool, but he supposed that’s what getting held back a year got you. He hadn’t exactly remembered it, having gone to kindergarten at a later year than most. But he wasn’t going to question his mother’s actions, especially since they had only been in Detroit a few weeks at the time and had missed the deadline for enrollment. At least, that’s the easiest explanation he had come up with. And it wasn’t like he could change it now. He was only invested in school as to appease his mother, else he might have dropped out junior year and joined his mother at her nightwork at the factory in order to help pay rent.
But no, she had said; focus on your schooling, make a better life for yourself. If only school and anything better had interested him as much as he thought it should; as much as it had his mother or his peers. So he figured graduating high school couldn’t be too bad. At least he’d have one up somewhere in life, as college didn’t seem too amicable for him.
So the young man readied himself, bidding goodbye to his mother and leaving for the transit system and hoping there wouldn’t be another delay like there had been for the past few months. Something about the rails or electrical system, he wasn’t too sure. He honestly hadn’t much of a care over why, so long as he actually got to school at a decent hour. Though, knowing his luck, it wouldn’t end up that way.
School was tedious and long, in his opinion. He enjoyed a few classes here and there, sure. And while he wasn’t Harvard-tier, his grades stayed good and rarely did he find himself in any sort of trouble; the last time he could remember was freshman year, when he'd been caught reading rather than watching the video the history teacher had been playing. Toby considered himself to be the quiet kid, always sitting in back. He had a few kids whom he'd consider acquaintances; and sure, he'd been invited to a few birthday parties growing up, as well as remembered a couple where he invited his fellow kids to some of his (rather uninteresting, at least compared to others), but he couldn't say he was super close to anyone, or so he considered. Not that it mattered to him either way; it being just he and his mom was quite alright.
Toby meandered quietly down the street from his stop, carefully letting a few kids in front of him enter the apartment building before him as he held the door open for them. They had said thanks, at least, so that was a plus. There was no mail to grab from the box, and the stairwell was filled with the relentless pounding of feet as voices echoed high and low from varying heights. He didn't have to walk too far up to get to his floor, and found it quieter than downstairs. His door was none the further, either, and he was quick to enter his apartment before one of the neighbors decided to stop him for a chat. He liked most of them, of course, but the elderly neighbor to the right of them could ramble on for well over an hour if you'd let him; Toby often remembered fondly the day he'd be standing out in the hallway for well over two and a half hours listening to the man talk when all he'd done was asked him how he and his dog were doing. To say his mom was confused as to how it took him that long to grab the mail before he'd explained it to her was an understatement.
Claire was, naturally, already meowing vehemently at him as he entered the apartment. His mother chuckled from the kitchen table, finishing off her coffee as Toby lugged his backpack to the kitchen table with Claire in hot pursuit. She was such a well behaved cat, though his mother had been glad they'd found her as a kitten rather than an adult; most strays tended to take longer to get used to domestic life, and even so we're usually more uncaring than the boisterous long haired tabby. Toby swore she might have had Maine Coon in her, but they'd barley had enough to get her fixed much less afford those costly DNA tests.
"School go alright?" his mother asked as Toby settled in his seat and began rummaging through his bag.
"Aside from science, yeah," Toby hummed. "Mr Hanks almost set a desk on fire." His mother chuckled.
"That sounds exciting," she mused as she stood and moved to the sink. The kitchen always seemed so cramped even without the table.
"Not when you're sitting at the desk he almost set on fire," Toby said.
A math book and science book were both pulled out of his bag, each with a few papers sticking out. Granted, they were more tables than desks -- but they still had assigned seating, so that counted for something, right?
"Oh God," the woman snorted, fumbling with her cup slightly as she rinsed it out. "I hope you weren't hurt?"
"Nah, Mr Hank keeps a fire extinguisher handy," he said. He frowned when he realized that a small corner of his science book was charred. Nothing too bad, at least. "It's happened to him before, I guess."
His mother covered her mouth with one hand as she set her cup to dry on the counter, obviously trying to hide a smirk.
"Well," she chuckled, "at least he's responsible." Toby shrugged.
"Wouldn't call almost setting a desk on fire so many times you need a fire extinguisher at the ready responsible," Toby mused, opening up his science book to the page one of the papers was lodged into, "but sure, we'll go with that."
He could hear his mother shuffle over to him as he pulled out his homework to finish (only a few questions, really), setting a hand gently on his head to lean it towards her so she could press a light kiss atop his head. Toby hummed but seemed otherwise undisturbed as he rummaged through his bag for a pencil.
"I think I'm going to go lay down for a bit," hummed his mom as she shuffled out of the small kitchen. "Would you be a dear and wake me up by eight if I'm not already up? I'm going into the factory a little late today since I worked extra last week."
"Sure thing!" Tobias said happily. It wasn't like he was going anywhere, anyway, right?
"Thank you, sweetheart!" he heard his mother say before her bedroom door click quietly shut.
And so his life had been for well over a week, as it had been for almost thirteen years living in such a cold and harsh environment. He was just glad it was Friday, he mused as he hustled from the station towards his humble abode. It was a good fifteen minute walk, and in the morning he might have been moving just a tad bit faster. But everyone was more than pleased to rush home on a Friday evening, not dreading another day of work as they might earlier in the week. Teenagers passed loudly, a few on skateboards or bikes while they did their best to avoid passersby. Men in suits talked loudly on their phones or shoved by younger crowds who seemed too engulfed in their own phones in order to get home as soon as possible.
Of course, the majority of the crowd began to dissolve into the less favorable people as he got closer to his apartment building. Though Tobias had found early on not to fear them; if only because most had seen him grow from an elementary aged student until now, with many of their children familiar faces to him. He wasn’t the most accepted in his class, sure; especially after grade five. But being a moderately nice though naive child to many growing up, he had found that he had unknowingly made friends at best - acquaintances at worst - with the kids who would be split between joining their parents in a bad life or moving on for better things once they had grown old enough to do so. And because of this, he gradually began to earn familial greetings rather than cold stares, and a protection order over his lanky frame versus a death warrant because he was so different from them.
But neither he nor his mother ever complained. If once being nice to the otherwise unsavory crowd meant protection, then it was alright by them.
The apartment was quiet as he entered, which was to be suspected. If his mother wasn’t coming home late from her second job, then she was passed out in her room asleep until she had to awake for her overnight job. So he crept as quietly as he could inside, making sure not to slam the door as he walked in. Claire was there to greet him, tail flipping from side to side as she rubbed against his leg.
“Good t’ see you, too,” Toby muttered as he scratched the feline’s head, placing his backpack at the kitchen table.
Being that the kitchen was connected to the living room with only a table-esque island to separate them, he could easily see it was quiet and free of clutter. Only a couch, coffee table and another smaller table with their also small television atop it lie within; otherwise, only a window hanging at the far end by the bathroom door rests within. It was alright by Toby. Though, considering they rarely watched television, they could have gone without it. But he wasn’t one to complain; at least they had one.
Sighing, Toby moved to his room, pausing outside his mother’s now closed door (which it rarely ever was unless she was asleep, so he assumed she was) before entering his half opened door. Inside sat his bed against the far wall, near a closet; opposite the bed was a dresser with a few posters hanging above. The bedside table held a lamp, an alarm clock and a single drawer he kept knick knacks in. An overused bean bag chair sat at the otherwise other empty wall near the door. Clair trotted in beside the tall teenager as he trudged to his bed, plopping down gratefully upon it. Screw homework - he could do that anytime during the weekend. A nap sounded great right about now, especially after such a long week.
