Special Needs (Unfinished)

Find out how to get a ride home kid.

Brian sat on the edge of the road, he watched all the people in the passing cars not look over at him to make sure he was okay, or needed a ride home to his lonely old apartment. Brian stared at the ground and sighed, "When am I ever going to get a ride?" The twenty one year old stood up and started walking towards the train station. That really was his only way to get home. His friends dropped him off on the road a few hours ago and they never came back. Surely he would never speak to them again.

Brian put his hands in his pockets and kicked around the stones as he walked. He looked over to see a old blue van pull off to the side of the road.

"Hey, do you need a ride?" The man asked. He was tall and lanky, about Brian's age. Brain questioned that, he was maybe a little younger, about nineteen.

"Sure," Brian answered. He seemed like a nice guy. "I just need to go to the train station."

"I am too, just to check my papers up there. Well, get in now." The teenager pointed to the passenger seat.

"Oh," Brain opened the door and hopped in. "So what's your name?" He was curious.

"Stefan, yours?" He looked behind to see the street and pulled into the lane.

"Brian. What papers do you have up there?" He looked at Stefan, he had a blonde mohawk that layed flat on his head.

"Oh, I'm trying to start a band and looking for members. I play bass and guitar," He said.

"That's cool, I'm looking for a band mate. Maybe we could start a band together?" Brian asked. "If you like the idea." Brian looked down at his lap embarrassed.

"Can I get your number. I will call you if you want to meet up sometime." Stefan was overjoyed with the idea.

"Yes, it's 419-555-1351." Brian said. He saw that Stefan was almost to the station, but Brian didn't want to leave his the car. There was something about Stefan that made Brian feel happy, he felt better with him around.

The twenty one year old turned his head to Stefan. "Can I call you Stef?" It was easier for him to remember.

"Sure, what ever you'd like." Stefan pulled nto the parking lot, "Well see you." He waved at Brian before leaving the car and started going the other way.

Brian stopped and waited for the train to come. He checked his watch, it read 4:55. He wasn't late for the five o'clock train to Luxemburg. He sat down on the bench behind him and waited for the train.

The train arrived soon after. He looked around to find he was the only one in the empty lot. He stood up and went inside the train. Brian found a small empty seat and sat down. He leaned his head on the window and layed there for a few minutes before the train started to move.

"I'll be home soon." He said to no one. The train shook him a little, making him hit his head against the wall. He sighed, this happened a lot. He leaned his heavy head on the window and watched the wheels below him spin to home.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Hey," someone said to him. Brian looked up at a older-looking man in a suit. Brian blinked to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "Kid we're here. Get up." People started to file in behind the man.

Brian said nothing, he got up and hopped off the train, he stumbled over his feet and the twenty one year old fell on the cement floor. He sat up and checked his knee, it was bleeding.

"Fuck." Brian stood and walked to the stairs. He winced as he walked, the pain was getting to him. When he made it up the stairs he walked to his little apartment a few blocks down.

When Brian opened the door to his apartment, he sat down on his couch and slept.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back with Stefan:

Stefan turned his radio on, it was all really shitty songs that everyone supposedly loved, he turned it off.

"When will music be good?" He asked himself. Sure, some music was good but Stef thought he could change it.

When he got home, he had to call Brian. There was something about him that made Stefan feel like himself, even though they were only together for about a half hour.

He sat down on the couch and typed Brian's number into his phone.

"Hello," a shy voice said.

"Is this Brian?" He asked.

"Yeah, who's calling." Brian's accent sounded weird on the phone.

"Stefan, from earlier."

"Oh, I just woke up so I would've recognized you. But what's up?" It sounded like he was smoking, I could hear his heavy breath over the phone.

"Nothing much, I just felt like talking." There was a pause. "Hello?" I asked into the phone.

"I'm still here," Stefan could tell that Brian felt bad, "Just smoking. It is my habit."

"It's okay, when are we gonna meet so I don't make any plans for that day." Stefan stood up and started walking about the room.

The two started to talk about whatever was on their minds. They were on the phone for hours, they agreed that Stefan and Brian would meet on the 20th, which was three days away. They kept talking until they both passed out around 5 a.m.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Back to Brian.

The light showed throughout Brian's bedroom window and hit him in the face. He opened his eyes and scrunched them back up tightly. He rolled over and tried to go back to sleep, but the sun made it too bright in his little room. He sat up and pulled up his pant leg to reveal a healing leg. He sighed with relief.

Brian stood up and went to the kitchen, he found some old wine in the fridge. A few friends of his Always left some type of alcohol in his house. He rolled his eyes at the thought of friends and grabbed it.

"Since I was born I started to decay." He sang to himself. The adult realized that what he sang was original and he wrote it down.

"Should I make this into a song?" He thought, Brian grabbed a paper and jotted down lyrics that floated around in his mind.

He took a swig of his wine and remembered about his guitars and bass.  "I should probably have something for Stef ready."

He chose to grab the bass and started to play. He was a self-taught guitar and bass player and with that Brian was pretty good at it too. The song came to him, it was working out really well. Brian was happy with himself. He started to drink the rest of the bottle of wine. He was a little tipsy, not enough to be drunk though.

He kept replaying the song, he was getting better at it. He got up and rummaged around in the fridge to find more wine, really anything with alcohol. He was happy for what he accomplished.