If it weren't for the fact that the brunette could feel the couch underneath his back, Tubbo would have sworn that he was waking up in Los Angeles. Why, it was so similar, if he was being honest. Although only a townhouse, it was still adjacent to a road, which without a doubt was busy in the morning. The life of living in a city, Tubbo supposed. Waking up to the sounds that accompanied it; honking horns and the soft patter of stiletto heels against the sidewalk, a look of wonder as to how a woman could possibly walk to work in shoes such as that. A lingering scent of gutter fumes, scorching air that ascended toward a starless sky in the evening, loitering until morning. Something that Tubbo would never quite get used to, of course.
He allowed his eyes to flutter open, being met with the ceiling of Tommy's townhouse. The young man smiled softly to himself, propping himself up on his elbows before coming to a sitting position. A thin strip of sunlight draped over him, similar to his blanket, coming from a crack that remained from the curtains not being fully closed. Tubbo reached toward them, drawing them open and squinting his eyes, the dim room being filled with intruding light that now poured through the window. Startling, although refreshing. Something that the brunette himself was victim to every morning in Los Angeles, stumbling over to his window and pulling up the blinds, shuddering from the sight of sunlight reflecting off of buildings. It was blinding, really.
Sure enough, Tubbo could notice someone passing by on their way to work, talking on their phone and obviously in a hurry. The brunette liked to wonder how many people were currently roaming the sidewalks, each one of them with somewhere to be; each one with a paycheck to strive toward, whether it was lifesaving or simply another addiction to a collection. Living paycheck to paycheck was something far too familiar for Tubbo, something that he never wanted to go through again. A familiar dread would strike him every night, wondering if his landlord would soon decide to switch when rent was due, forcing him to find somewhere else to live. Luckily, such instance had never occurred. What a funny thing that Tubbo found himself sleeping on Tommy's house, regardless of being evicted or not. It was surely a wonder to the brunette how all of this was even happening.
The boy stretched carefully, arching his back, and letting out a yawn. There wasn't anything on his agenda for the morning, nor the afternoon and evening. The brunette was free to explore the city for the entire day, something that he was hoping to do once Tommy lent him a jacket. Tubbo had always dreamed of living in the city, something he had envisioned even as a child. There was just something so magical about New York City...the city that never slept. The thought of living in such a place had always been appeasing to hm as he was growing up, especially the thought of making it big as an author. Why, that was his dream. Being able to do something you love for a living was surely everyone's dream. Of course, so was being your boss. Being able to decide on your own when the deadlines were. That was Tubbo's dream.
Being tied down by deadlines was surely nothing that anyone wanted, and it was a life Tubbo had allowed himself to live for the longest time. Tied to a cubicle in Los Angeles, the only thing setting it apart from the rest being the picture he kept of his family beside the computer. Sitting in an uncomfortable chair, typing away furiously on the keyboard, wishing it was a novel he was writing and not some summary of their quota. Paperwork to his left, deadlines to his right, the weight of his job resting heavily on his shoulders. God, what a burden it was. And Tubbo knew very well he would be stuck in that hellish loop for the rest of his life if he hadn't accepted the opportunity in New York City; forever scrolling on that goddamn computer, looking at charts and making sure the numbers matched. It was insufferable.
It was a job that Tommy was unfortunate enough to have, although he was a bit higher up in the company he worked for. The blonde took pride in his work. Tubbo had never once heard the blonde utter a complaint about how he worked, when he worked, and why he worked. It was always talk of how he hoped to strive further, hoped to rise to the head of the company and up to the sky. For the higher the floor, the bigger the role, that was what Tommy always liked to tell him. How the blonde dreamed of being up at the top floor, an office of his own. That was the bonus promotion every man wished for. For although a paycheck could suffice, having your own office was a dream.
