New Money (JB//Current)

Chapter Two.

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       "So you're telling me it wasn't any fun?" Ryan huffed, handing me a plate of bacon. "You havn't told me anything. Not a single thing. C'mon, Justin. You know I'm sorry I couldn't come along with you but I at least wanted some details. I'm sure you can stir up a story for me. Please?"

That was the last thing I wanted to do. That night at the Donavan's home had brought me nothing but cold, hard, burden. I figured I'd go to reunite with my lost trophy, but instead was smacked in the face with a wad of Benjamin's. It had all happened too quickly, though, and I didn't know what was right for me to say. Surely, Camilla didn't want me spilling any business about her, and I doubt I'd look too good involved in it either. But I proceeded to tell him about Alexander Donavan and his palace, and Ryan was just as interested in that.

"Sounds like a whole lotta fun," he tells me. "Did you get a peek at the Brauns? Was Chester as scary as they say he was? And what about Caralynn? Was she just incredible, or what?"

I let out a chuckle. "I must've missed them."

His face falls and forms an unsatisfied expression. "Damn it, better luck next time buddy."

It was his own boss, Garrison Montgomery, who had invited him to the party in the first place but since Ryan was unable to make it, he urged me to go instead. I know I'd disappointed him in not telling him every small detail but I just didn't think it was necessary. Nothing was necessary right now. Nothing, except getting to work on time.

"You know I'd love to stay and chat, old sport," I tell him, "but I can't be late again. Not today." The streets were always busy in this city. People were always in a hurry, and that included me. Now, that didn't necessarily mean they were in a hurry to get to a destination. No, it meant they were always in a hurry: to do things, to get to the end of the week, to the end of the year, to the end of their lives. Hurry, busy, busy, go. Nobody had time to watch anything else.

That's what I'd first done when I arrived in this city. My writing career had been shot down almost immediately and so I gave up on boarding school. I was never any good. But New York was different than it was out West. I just observed the extraordinary buildings that pierced the sky or the congested sidewalks with people desperate to shop in the famous stores in which celebrities dwelled. I even found myself lost in the Big Apple.

Suppose that's where I met Ryan, and I'm glad I did. It had been a rainy day, and he'd bumped into me, spilling his papers and coffee cups all over the wet sidewalk. He knew I wasn't the average knickerbocker around and so he kind of took me in. He taught me the ropes, said he was in search for a nice roommate who wouldn't want to kill him in his sleep and that I was the perfect candidate.

And so we were here, been staying for 5 months. He was the single nicest person in this whole city and was definitely someone you could trust to do anything for you. He never judged, didn't ask too many questions, was a decent cook, and always kept you on schedule. Ryan was a great roommate.
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Lovett's Café had always been busy. These New Yorkers ran on coffee, they lived off of the stuff. I didn't prefer it, especially now that I'd read every single ingredient. But it was good business, and I was never bored. The shop usually began to crowd at 10:15 am, and by then, it was a race to get every person their correct order in under 4 minutes. And I was pretty good at it, too.