He checked right and left before emerging from the disgustingly humid alleyway, carefully to not attract attention. He's gotten good at blending in over the years, thats the perk of living on the streets. That and pickpocketing random men, women, old people and...dogs?
Wyatt pulled his hood lower to cover his short brown hair before strategically bumping into a young woman. .
"sorry" Wyatt mumbled, preparing to leave with the woman's wallet, hidden in the pocket of his old Boston tea party shirt.
"Oh, it's fine" Her smile was warm and welcoming, definitely not what Wyatt was used to. He turned to leave when he felt someone rush into him.
"Bro-"he heard a high-pitched woman's voice.
His backside met the concrete as he tried to comprehend what just happened.
"Hey sorry uh-"she spluttered in a hurry. Finally, after a few seconds of incoherent speech, she stretched out her arm. Wyatt took it hesitantly.
The thing is he thought she was just going to be on her way and he would never see her again but alas nothing is ever as it seems because shortly after, the smell of smoke filled the air and Wyatt heard police sirens.
"OH Shit" He heard the girl swear.
Suddenly he was being dragged around by a stocky female with short strawberry blonde hair in a wrinkled beige suit and... now that he thinks about it, an old burn on her left arm.
She turned to him as they ran "That explosion was not me "
"must be the Tuesday gravity acting up" Wyatt responded nonchalantly.
She grinned at him, showing two prominent dimples on each of her cheeks."My name's Charlene Jamison but you can call me Charlie"
Wyatt stared at her, then nodded "Wyatt Goodwill"
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CHARLENE MY BELOVED
YOU ARE READING
That one company with dysfunctional adult orphans
Fanfictionso like alot of this is not accurate but I FINALLY DID AN ORIGINAL STORY RAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH LETS GET IT
