This was a therapeutic chain of events.

TWO

It was an eight minute walk from Port authority bus terminal to the train station, then a twenty minute train journey to 86th street, then finally a ten minute walk from the station to East 93rd Street, where my fate awaits me. I walked up the steps on to the main street and began the begrudged journey to my apartment. It was snowing heavier now, so I pulled up the collar on my black coat and once again pulled my beanie down so it was almost covering my eyes. I checked the time on the clock in the station and it was earlier than I thought. When I looked it was 12:52am, which means it's probably around 12:59am now. I was about 2 minutes away from my apartment building when I heard a man's voice singing. I stopped and looked around to see a homeless man lying on a bench looking up at the snow flakes falling, I stopped, closed my eyes and listened to his sweet voice, a voice that reminded me of someone I once knew. I recognised the song, it was a Frank Sinatra song called 'I've got the world on a string.' My Mom used to sing it to my brother and I when we were younger, then when she stopped, he would sing to me, he would sing this very song. 

I was suddenly jolted away by a voice speaking, my eyes shot open and I looked over to the man to see he was sitting up, he had stopped singing and was looking straight at me. "Are you okay miss?" He spoke, he was older than he sounded, perhaps in his early 60's, his only company was a collie cross lying across his lap, his ears perking up once his master spoke. 

"Umm... yeah sorry, I was just listening to you sing." I said taking a few steps closer to him and his cute dog. 

"That's alright, any time."  He said producing his relatively white and straight teeth for a homeless man in New York City. 

"You have a great voice." I said, he dog was pining and so I retrieved one cold hand from my pocket and gave him soft strokes on the head. 

"Why Thank you. I used to be a singer." He said, beaming with what I could only see as pride. 

"Really, my brot-" I stopped myself before finishing my sentence, knowing that I would regret bringing him up. "That's awesome, Broadway?" I asked, even though I was freezing my ass off, this man seemed compelling to me in some way. 

"Yes ma'am." He said nodding a little, even though he was homeless with no company or warmth, apart from a canine companion, this man seemed content with the life he lived, I only wished that that could be me in 50 years, just content with the life I've lived. "Well listen here missy, you'd better get out of the cold, I'm sure you've got someone nice and warm you can go home to." He said smiling and patting the hand that I had rested on the back of the bench. Even though it would've been appropriate, I couldn't sense a single tone of sarcasm or resentment in his voice, which only heightened the respect I had for this man. 

I gave him a warm smile in return and began walking away slowly. Before I turned back around to ask him a question. 

"Excuse me um, will you be here in the morning?" I asked looking down at him with questioning eyes. 

"Why I believe so, why'd you ask?" He asked me adjusting the way his dog sat on his lap.

"Do you--- I mean would you like me to bring you some breakfast?" I asked fiddling with my fingers in front of me. 

"Why, that's very kind of you. But I don't want to be a burden---" He began.

"No no, it's no burden at all, I'd be happy to." I said smiling widely.

"Well Thank you very much ma'am." He said, his smile was the picture of joy, which only made me smile more. As I began walking away, I realised I never got his name. 

"Oh excuse me I never got your name." I said walking over to him for the final time. 

"The names Larry." He spoke. "And yours?" 

"My names Ronnie." I said sticking out my hand for him to shake. 

"Pretty name for a pretty lady." He smiled, I smiled at him before finally beginning my descent home. 

When I was walking up the steps of my 20th century apartment block, I was sure my parents would be asleep. I turned the first key in the front door which led to the porch, then turning the second big black oak door which led to the hallway. I pushed the door open quietly to reveal a black hallway, and even though I've done this a thousand times I still feel relief when I see the lights off. But unfortunately I spoke too soon. Just as I closed the door, the lights flicked on and there was my parents staring at me, I knew, judging me already. 

There was a few moments of just pure judgement in the air, but I was used to it by now. I had been caught many times before, usually the punishment being grounded for a month of no allowance, both of which I could easily solve, and never followed. I stood there for a moment longer, face relaxed hands placed on top of one another behind my back, they were saying nothing, and I wondered if this was a new strategy their therapist had given them, not speaking. Because right now I was loving it. But soon the boredom set in and I widened my eyes and arched my eyebrows, leaning forward slightly in order for one of them to talk. And one did.

"What time do you call this?" My Mom was first to break the silence, typical. She was sitting on one of the dining room chair and my Dad was behind her with his hands on her shoulders. I decided to have my fun. I looked at the clock on the wall in the hallway.

"Um... 1:09." I said looking back at the with a smirk. 

"Don't be a smart ass young lady." My Dad began to say, but I cut him off. 

"Oh so it's young lady now, last week it was annoying little fucker..." 

"Hey watch your mouth." My Dad interrupted.

"Please correct me if I'm mistaken." I said placing a palm to my chest. 

My Dad's breathing got heavier and I could tell he was pissed off, good. 

"Look here, your father and I have been worried sick." I scoffed. "We didn't know what had happe---" 

"Oh save it Mom, you've never waiting up before and I've done this plenty of times." I said rolling my eyes and scoffing again. 

"Done what exactly, that's the point we don't know where you are, what your doing, who your with, for all we know you could be dead in a ditch." She said, standing up and walking over to me, to which I took a step back.    

"Please, you never cared before." I spoke, leaning my weight onto my left leg and crossing my arms. 

"That is not true." She said putting a hand to her heart, looking offended. Oh please Mom stop being so dramatic. 

After a minute or two I was bored of this conversation. 

"Ok well, whatever I'm going to bed." I said making my way up the stairs. 

"Ronnie, your mother and I are not finished talking to you." My Dad shouted up the stairs.

"Yeah, well I'm finished talking to you." I shouted back already at my bedroom door. Slamming it behind me. 

When I shut the door behind me, I turned around and took off my coat, the smell of cigarette cmoke and weed hit my face in an invisible cloud of fibres. I threw it over my desk chair and crashed onto my bed, not bothering to take off anything apart from my boots. This is how I had fallen asleep, probably for the majority of the nights over the past 3 years. It didn't really bother me any more, I got used to it, just like I get used to most things.