Teenage Dirtbag

Prologue

I walked the streets of New York every night. With no reason why, I just felt the need to take a stroll. When it was cold, like really cold, I would get bundled up and go on a walk. I felt that it cleared my mind.

From the horror in my dreams, the embarrassment in my past, whatever was bothering me, it was either a walk at night, or the gym in the morning.

I usually liked to take a seat on the bench right next to the subway station, where I'd see the abyss of bodies pass me when rush hour would start. Sometimes, if I'm lucky, I'd get an idea for my sketch journal.

I put most of my thoughts in there. Sometimes it'd be writing, sometimes it'd be drawing. Whatever I felt was comfortable. If I was extremely lucky, I would get feminine attention - not that I was obsessed with it.

I hadn't been in a relationship since last year, but it didn't go so well when I said I loved her. I guess I've always been that corny guy with bad jokes and romantic comments. I try.

But then again, I think I try to hard when it comes to romance. My mind is set on one subject, and that's to please. It shouldn't be like that, but when I was with her, I tried to make her happy.

She was though - happy.

She told me how happy I made her, or how I made her feel, but I guess she didn't feel the same way in the end. I never knew the real reason why she ended things, but my mind had been set on the fact I told her I loved her.

It was a pretty long relationship, the whole eight months of it.

But I moved on. I wasn't going to let her bring me to a mood I never wanted to feel. I wasn't going to let her get to me, not like that.

Once I started to hit the gym, I found my new anchor. Boxing had been a thing I grew fond of over the months. I'd go in the mornings, box for about and hour or two with my personal trainer, hit the treadmill for twelve minutes, then head home and work on other things.

It was different everyday. I'd either go from reading for a solid hour, to watching a random show I didn't start from the beginning, or I'd play the piano for the people who were never there.

I always imagined my mum watching me. Even though she was a country away, I still imagined her by my side in times I usually needed her.

When it grew dark, I'd head out of my apartment, with a coat to keep me warm, and go to my usual spot.

Tonight felt different. The air was nicer, and I felt a little too warm with the coat I'd chosen. Not very many people were passing by during rush hour.

I sat down on the bench, looking around and taking in the beauty of New York.

I may be a little creepy coming here every night, but for some wild reason it reminded me of home. A young women stood at the light post, shivering her ass off.

She looked around, but not to my direction. I noticed she wasn't covered much, as in a coat and longer pants. It was a skirt to be exact, with a sweater that wasn't enough for her. Christmas was just around the corner, she must've been in a hurry.

"You cold?" I walked up to her, peeking through the people walking in a different direction than I was. She turned and nodded, still shivering. Her double take made me flinch.

"H-Harry?" I looked back at her, not knowing how she fricken knew me.

"It's me, Noel. Remember, from high school?" My mouth dropped open, not thinking I'd ever see her again. I guess dreams aren't for rookies.