Deception (Michael Clifford)

One

It's 6:37pm.

The July sun is only just setting over the skyline of New York. I should be heading back to the hotel by now, but I want to finish this portrait first. I pick up my 4B pencil and put some more shading in Billie Joes hair, swap it for a 6B as I work into the darker parts. Yes, I was drawing Billie Joe Armstrong from Green Day, I'd had a bit of a weird obsession with them lately, especially their album 'Bullet In a Bible'. I would repeat the words as Billie would, shouting them out to the crowd at Milton Kynes, and they would sing the lyrics back at us. I swap my pencil for a 2H, marking the page lightly to make little wisps of hair, making sure not to smudge the rest of the image. I lay my pencil down and attempt to tie up my hair again, still frizzy from my shower this morning. I look back out across Central Park from where I was sat under a tree, people were starting to leave now as the temperature started to dip, the joggers making their last route through the park, owners leading their dogs back to their vehicles. I decide to pack up my things as well, I can finish this back at the hotel. I slowly put away my pencils, trying not to spill any of my sharpenings on the grass as I take in the last of the golden sunset.

My belly grumbles with hunger, reminding me I hadn't eaten since I arrived here at 10 this morning. I look at the time on my phone again, considering if I had enough time to pop into Panda Express on my way back. I thought to hell with it, why not, mum was probably still at work anyway, she wouldn't know if I got back a little late. I chuck my sketchbooks into my rucksack and sling it onto my back, walking across the darkening expanse of Central Park. Boulevard Of Broken Dreams is still streaming through my earphones, virtually blocking out the hum of the city as the last of the slickers make their way back home. I'm used to the noise by now, I've visited New York a number of times, a result of having an event coordinator for a mum. We were always travelling, her job dragged her across America as she helped to plan major events and concerts, sometimes even overseas to the likes of England and Germany. Hence we'd been staying in hotels and living out of suitcases for months now. I can't remember the last time we visited home back in Melbourne Australia. I miss the heat and the beaches, and my friends. Going out for a girls night heading to the cinemas and getting Nandos on the way back, talking about our celebrity crushes and the latest episode of Teen Wolf. I miss those days.

I crossed another busy street and rounded a corner with a bright red fire hydrant, it made me look twice. It didn't look like all the other hydrants dotted around new york, this one looked kind of vintage. I hadn't quite explored this part of the town yet so the buildings are unfamiliar. The yellow light from the street lamps bathes the sidewalk of the quiet turn off and seems to give it an air of hostility, but I don't give much thought to the sense of uneasiness in my stomach, I just put it down to the lack of food. I walk a bit further, passing some trash cans and rubbish bags before reaching another junction, looking at the map on my phone and trying to locate the restaurant in relation to my position. I decide to turn left, Panda Express thankfully coming into view at the end of the street. The sun had fully set by now and lights from high rise apartments start to flicker on. I start to get this feeling of eyes boring into my back, I cautiously look over my shoulder but can't see anything, stop being so paranoid Scarlet I tell myself, deciding it is nothing.

Reaching the doors to the restaurant I pull hard on the metal handle and step inside, the smell of Chinese cuisine instantly filling my nostrils, only teasing my taste buds and making me more hungry. Luckily it's quite quiet and I was served pretty quickly, so I grab my food and make for a small table towards the front of the restaurant. I pick a seat next to the window and dig into my firecracker chicken, not before pulling out the onions, a weird habit of mine, I hate onions. My phone buzzes in my pocket and I had to lean back in my chair to pull it out from my skinny jeans. A text from Hannah, my friend back in Australia, she'd sent me a picture of her holding the new All Time Low album with the message, 'IT'S AMAZING!!! Omg have you listened to it yet? :D' , I'd meant to go out and get it today but I got too engrossed in my drawing. I send her a quick reply before my phone promptly runs out of battery and dies, great, I'm on my own now, putting it back in my pocket I tuck into the last of my dinner. Feeling satisfied with a full belly, I brush my hands and face with the napkin and stand up to grab my things, thinking I should now start heading back to the hotel.