Fallen

Chapter 1: It Never Rains in LA

So it never rains is LA huh? Someone forgot to tell Mother Nature. Three days it had been raining and I was sure that there was moss growing in my hair. It was so frizzy. I sat in a coffee shop, drying out, drinking a hot spiced tea and reading (or looking through) a book of classic art and artists. The different styles leaped out from each page; the colours, the brush strokes. It amazed me every time I looked at them.
At twenty three years old, I was in a unique place. Thanks to my parents, I didn't have to work but I refused to be a spoiled, rich kid. I had a passion for helping people. It was my drug, making me happy with each person I helped. It wasn't from pity but a compulsion. I needed it.
As I sat up, I looked toward the large, glass window at the front of the cafe. There was a young man standing under the awning, out of the rain. His dark hair was dripping, his clothes hung from him (he was so wet) and he was shaking. I could tell that he hadn't been in LA for long, there was still hope on his face.
And there it was once more. Getting up, slipped into my damp jacket, placed my book in my water proof shoulder bag and walked to the door. The spray of the rai hit me as I stepped outside.
"Well this is horrible." Said as I pulled my jacket tighter.
He didn't respond. Looking over, I noticed that he had a backpack and a guitar case with him.
"No worries about sunburn today I think." I continued.
To this, I got a slight smile and a nod. He did hear me.
"How long have you been here?" I asked.
"Three days." His voice was deep and shaky.
"Ah. A virgin." I kidded.
"Excuse me?" He questioned, looking up.
"Sorry. Just what my friends and I used to call those who first moved here." I explained. "Need a place to crash?"
"No. Thanks. I'm not quite to that point yet."
"I'm not offering." He thought I was propositioning him.
"Oh. Sorry."
"You obviously need a place to stay. I own a place. Kind of a shelter for starving artists."
"What's the catch?"
"No catch. At least come and have a shower and something to eat."
He seemed to be having an inner struggle. Take my offer or make his own way.
"It's a short drive away." I pointed to my sky blue 1969 mustang.
"That's a sweet ride." He really took notice of that.
"My name's Lisa. If that helps any. Come on. A hot shower and a real meal? Did you have a better offer?"
"Not today. Okay. Sure. Thank you."
"Great." I ran out, unlocked the passenger door, the trunk then got behind the wheel. When he jumped in next to me, I looked over quickly.
"Don't drip on the seats!"
"Shit! I'm sorry." He jumped up.
"I'm kidding."
Meeting his eyes, I noticed how truly blue his were. He began laughing.
"Thanks. I needed that." He settled into the seat.
"That's a nice sound. I love to hear people laughing."
"I'm Jared."
"Nice to meet you Jared. Welcome to LA." I started the car, pulled out into the slow moving traffic and headed west. "So what brings you here."
"Just a dream." He sighed.
"Of course."
"I just finished art school. Spent some time in New York and came out here to try other things."
"Well, I hope you succeed."
"I never expected to have someone help me. Do you always pick up strangers at coffee shops?"
"Coffee shops, dance clubs, McDonalds. Pretty much anywhere."
Jared snickered.
"I always took in stray animals as a kid. Drove my parents crazy."
"So I'm a stray animal?"
"People need shelter too."
Turning into a large parking lot, I pulled in front of a four story building and shut off the car.
"You live here?" Jared looked up.
"Along with about ten others. There's twelve units. Everyone stays as long as they need to." I explained.
"What's the rent?"
"Don't be too loud. No drugs. Stay safe. And follow your dreams."
"I don't get it."
"You don't have to."
We got out, grabbed Jared's things and lead him upstairs. I was in one of the three rooms at the top.
"Drop your things anywhere." I instructed.
He set them by the door. "Nice place."
It was a studio apartment, all open space, only the bathroom in a separate room. Not too big, but enough space to be comfortable.
"They're all like this." I told him.
"Cool." He was impressed.
"Bathroom's in there. Take as much time as you need."
"You sure about this? How do you know that I'm not going to hurt you?"
"If the hypothermia doesn't get you, I'm sure that I could. Two years of judo training." I playfully posed in a crouching attack stance.
"Okay. I give up."
"Good. Go on."
Jared nodded, grabbed his pack and walked to the bathroom.
In thirty minutes, I had salad made, fish cooked and pie in the oven (store bought). I set the table, finishing as the bathroom door opened.
"I didn't know where to put the wet towels."
"The floor's fine." I shrugged.
"Wow. What's all this?" He walked over.
"Dinner."
I placed the large bowl of vegetable on the table. Jared was standing by the sofa, his expression was surprise. He was wearing light blue jeans, a white t-shirt and barefoot.
"My sneakers are soaked." He held them by the backs.
"It's okay. Put your pack down and sit." I went back to the fridge, getting a carton of orange juice, some milk and water.
"This smells so good. I didn't realize that I was so hungry."
"Survival mode. The body turns off some senses when deprived. Eat as much as you want.
We sat at the table. I scooped some salad onto my plate, took a piece of the seared salmon and dug in. I watch as Jared tried not to seem like a glutton. He was taking small bites, like it wasn't the first meal he'd had in days.
"Want a bigger fork?" I asked.
"Hmm?" He looked up.
"You're hungry. Don't worry about manners."
"My mother didn't want us to be animals."
"No disrespect, but your mother's not here."
It was like I'd given him permission. Jared couldn't get the food in fast enough, eating the rest of the salad, the other two pieces of fish and three quarters of the pie.
"I feel like a pig." He dropped the fork on the plate.
"At least you enjoyed it." I started clearing the dishes.
"Let me help. It's the least I can do for all this."
"Nope. I don't accept."
"I feel like I should help."
"Don't want it. Where do you come from?"
"Originally. Louisiana.
"That's a nice part of the country. You said 'us' earlier."
"Me and my brother. My mother was a single mom but she made sure we had some manners."
"Sounds like you had a good time growing up."
"Most of the time. I'm sure we gave her some worries as we got older."
"What did she think of you moving out here?"
"She encouraged us to have dreams and chase after them."
He got quiet after that. I looked over to see him resting his head on his right hand, eyes closed
"Jared?"
"Yeah." His eyes flew open.
"Sofa."
"Okay." He stood up, walked to the living area, fell onto the plush cushions and I soon heard his light breathing.
And that was the first night that Jared began to live in the building. The next day I told him to take the vacant place across the hall (already furnished) and start to pursue his dreams.