The rain was coming down in cold, miserable sheets. Nine was crouched on the wet pavement, trying to pry open a battered payphone with a bent paperclip and a shard of glass. His fingers slipped every time, the metal scraping uselessly against the coin slot. Several people burled past him, one giving him dirty looks and the other soaking him further by splashing in a puddle. Nine's voice cracked, low and venomous at first, but then louder and frantic. "Fine! Fine! Nobody helps! Nobody EVER helps!" He slammed his fist against the payphone, gritting his teeth as he bit back tears of frustration. Noticing someone was staring at him, his head snapped up. "What? Come to laugh too? Everyone else just keeps walking. Like I don't even..." he cut himself off. "I don't have the right tools. I don't have ANYTHING anymore, and this stupid city won't even let me break a payphone right!"
@dancingthroughlcfe