Baby Bird || Yixing&Nobu
I'm not sure where I am. Honestly, that's 80% of my life now, but one would think I'd be at least semi-knowledgeable after three months, especially with a nightlife like mine. But these buildings are so unfamiliar, these faces strange and a heavy scent in the air of so many things that no properly raised young man should speak of. Then again, I do a lot of things that no properly raised young man should do, which makes me feel a bit better, at least. Not a whole lot, but... A bit.
And that little bit is almost immediately squashed by the repetition of the thought that led me down this internal tangent, which is that I’m not sure where I am. More than that, I have no earthly clue. And I haven’t seen a taxi in a half an hour, which means that this is the kind of area taxis would rather not waste their time on. Never a good sign. I learned back home to never go where the taxis wouldn’t, and here I am, breaking that very important, possibly life-saving rule.
Stoned out of any reasonable ability for logical thought, plus hella cross-faded, I make my way down the street. Nothing is familiar but I can almost feel a tug, the wild man’s instinct for where there might be a good club. This instinct, as it turns out, is kinda fantastic, and a lot more accurate than I thought it would be, because soon I’m in a decently okay looking area, and wouldn’t you know, there’s a taxi. Just chillin, waiting for someone to climb in. I pull on my best impersonation of a sober person, and climb in.
Of course, no cab driver would take a fare if they gave them the address to a homeless shelter, so I give the address for the apartment complex a block from my ’temporary living arrangement’, a trick I learned as soon as I got here, and easy enough to remember in any altered mental state. I get there, pay the cab driver, and get out, trying to collect what few mental facilities I have left before I get to the building. It’s dark. Completely dark. Of course, it’s close to four in the morning, so I don’t know why anyone would be awake, but they coulda at least left a light on.
I sneak -using the term lightly, of course- into the shelter, chewing my lip and making my way towards the room that houses my bunk, along with a few others, of course. Quiet. Gotta be quiet. If I wake anyone up they’ll tell Nobu, and I can’t. I just can’t. Can’t deal with that right now. But any one of these narks would rat out the ‘spoiled brat’, the one with parents, rich parents that would help me if I let them, and if I gave up all my evil ways, and this ridiculous dream, and blah blah blah. I roll my eyes in the dark, and take a breath. Just gotta make it into bed...
