Busking For Power || Avengers || S. Rogers

Chapter 1 || I'd Bite It You Bastard ||

  The busy streets of New York City are alive with drunk laughter and honking horns from the cab drivers. Sometimes the odd sound of making out -or something more- is heard from a parked car nearby. But none of this could derail me from playing my guitar and singing my favourite song from Rent; Seasons Of Love.

  My guitar case sits in front of me open for anyone to toss some spare change into. I rarely get much money as I don't sing songs heard continuously on the radio, only my favourite theatre tunes.

  Usually the only people that will stop to listen to me are theatre kids or gay men that idolize Chris Colfer as Kurt Hummel in Glee.

  And I'm not joking when I say one time I was tipped a hippo badge instead of money.

  But I was happy with what I do. Busking on the streets where anyone can choose to listen to me without having to pay for admission fees.  It was amazing how much money you can get from singing in the New York streets.

  The warm sun radiating down on you. The curious children pulling their Mums to a stop to listen to me.

  But today I was doing a night busk. Because strangely, drunk people love to tip people money.

  It's a simple way to get money, even if sometimes it isn't much. I seem to be able to get jobs pretty easily though with little persuasion needed. But the trouble I have is keeping them...

  So that's how I found myself opposite a strip club singing theatre tunes on a Friday night.

  I finished Seasons of Love and decided to move on to This is Me from The Greatest Showman.

  Some people believe that musicals are not movies with people singing in them, but I disagree. The Greatest Showman is as much a musical as the broadway production of Heathers, or Les Miserables!

  As I was nearing a powerful part of the song, a man dressed in all black -who was very hard to see, he'll probably get run over- accidentally dropped his whole wallet into my guitar case.

  "Excuse me sir? I think you dropped your wallet." I called out to him. But he just continued to walk away without a second look backwards. Maybe he was deaf?

  I slung my guitar over my back and picked up his wallet from my case. It was a snake skin wallet with a a symbol in the middle. It was hard to see in the dark, but I believe it to be an Octopus looking creature.

  Dismissively, I stood back up and looked towards the direction he'd walked in. But no one was there. I frowned thinking of the poor man who just lost his wallet. I chuck it back in my guitar case just in case he comes back for it.

  I tiredly yawned, it's getting quite late and I've got a 10am interview -for the 27th restaurant I've tried to get a job at- in the morning.

  I unplugged my guitar from the speaker and started to wrap the cord around my arm.

  A hand whipped in front of my face and smacked onto my mouth, keeping me silent as four men stepped into view. My eyes wide with terror.

  "What have we got here!" The man right in front of me asked in a Russian accent. "A young little girl alone on the streets of NYC. A silly mistake you made. Mummy never taught you about safety?"

  I glared at the prick. I was an orphan. Left on the doorstep of St Elmo's Orphanage for the Misfits. No note, no basket, not even a blanket. Just a nappy and a ruby red, silver chained necklace on my neck.

  St Elmo's didn't usually take children under the age of 7, because bad things that young kids do are just accidents, but because I was just left at the door with untraceable parents. They were forced to take me in.