Is this World really that bad? |Larry Stylinson AU (unfinished complete)

Chapter 3

It's a normal day for me. Just sitting around, watching the people once in a while, going for a walk with Bentley and trying to ignore the rude things people throw at me.

Today I have to buy Bentley some new food and I still have no money so I am fucked, again. I hope some of the 'normal' people will give me some money today because if not, well, I will have to go another day without anything to eat and Bentley too. Some of the people give me money because of him and that's another reason I'm grateful to have him.

I look through the crowds of business people, at eight in the morning, with my red swollen eyes. I breathe in the smell of exhaust gases with my sore nose and pet Bentley with my trembling hand. I see all the same people as always walking to their work buildings. Nothing special.

Until I see a yellow car driving up. A taxi. Well, that is something special. No one ever dares to come in a taxi. They say it's cheap and looks bad. A tall man, in a really expensive black suit that looks like some YSL because of the satin rim, gets out, pays the driver and goes over to the biggest and most important building of all. The people all quickly get out of the man's way and I think he is someone really important if he has those people gaping. As soon as he is inside, the others start to whisper to each other, most likely about him.

I don't know who that is but from the looks of it just some other asshole. After half an hour just sitting there I get up and go for a walk with Bentley. I walk down the street and then turn left walking by all these stores. A two minute walk brings me to this little park I always go to with him. He can play a little with other dogs and I can sit down on a bench to watch him. Today isn't different. When we reach the park I let him run around and I sit down on the bench beneath a tree. At this time of the day, barely anyone is here.

I look around and stare at those big buildings in awe. I always dreamed of being a businessman. Quiet popular maybe, like that man I saw half an hour ago. Or something that has to do with fashion. But well, look at me. I have nothing else to wear besides this grey ripped shirt, black skinny jeans, grey worn out no-name shoes and the jacket I wear at the moment. I have a blanket and a big warm jacket for when it gets cold. That's all I have. I don't even have a leash for Bentley but he would never run away.

After a while I stand up, whistle shortly and leave the park with Bentley by my side. I pass all the same stores again but don't pay any attention to them anymore. 

I sometimes wonder how I ended up here in this big city in America. Of course, yeah, I lived here before with my family but we never lived in a big city like this. We had a nice house outside of town, like a 20 minute drive or more. I guess it just happened. With this whole sleeping-at-different-people's-places-everyday phase I just somehow happened to end up here.

I turn right and just walk a little up the street and sit back down on my blanket. I lean my head against the cold brink wall behind me and close my eyes for a while. Bentley lays to my right with his head on my lap and takes a nap. He's a really sleepy dog. He doesn't really have anything else to do so I can understand him.

After a while, I open my eyes again and look across the street. It is lunch break. The people come over to this side of the street and sit down in the chairs of various cafés. They all always order the same and sit in the same chairs. For example, the woman with long brown hair put up in a neat ponytail, red-painted lips, her Gucci sunglasses, Chanel clutch, a white suit and black Louboutins always sits in the café just a few feet up the road, and orders a Caramel Macchiato. Her friend or colleague always orders a coffee with milk and puts some sugar in it.

It's getting really boring. I can't imagine the life of those people being interesting. When they always do the same in their lunch break they probably always do the same in their free time too. At least they have a better life than me. 

Those people could do everything they want. They have money, a family and, from the looks of it, are happy. I know you can't buy everything with money but still. I think they don't even know what possibilities they have and don't take. They work in a big building, sit behind desks the whole day and get paid a whole lot of money. When you see it like that they can't really do everything they want because they still have a job to do. Much money or not. What's the point when you don't have time to go on vacation, travel the world or do whatever you please? It's still better than my life.

I look across the street and see the man from earlier come out of the building. And again all the people over there get out of his way as fast as possible. I look at him and realise I've really never seen him here before. He must have either moved here or is here to check on something because I think he's pretty important. The people sitting in the cafés start whispering as he crosses the road and heads the opposite direction. I watch him walk away from afar until he turns right into a side road and disappears. I lean my head back against the cold wall and feel my eyes get heavy and before I know it I'm falling asleep.

When I wake up again it's afternoon. The sun stands between those two buildings to my right. I yawn and stretch my arms above my head. I hear my back crack and wince. That's what I get from sleeping on asphalt all the time. Bentley is still on my right but lays more in top of me than before. He always does that when I sleep. It's like he wants to protect me. He's so cute.

I look down to the cup, I have standing in front of me for people to throw money in, and hope. I look inside and nearly scream in excitement when I see a few dollars in it. Bentley barks and I can see he's happy too.

I slowly get up and stare at the maybe four dollars as if I won in the lottery. I walk down the street and after about ten minutes I'm standing in front of a big supermarket. I tell Bentley to stay outside and he sits down next to the door and waits. I go inside and head straight to the dog food. I take a small bag because I can't afford a bigger one and go to the checkout. The dog food isn't really cheap but one bag lasts for a week or more.

I leave the shop with the bag in my hand and one dollar left. Bentley barks happily again and I open the bag and give him some of it. After that, we go up the road and I enter the bakery and buy some slices of bread. Then we go back and sit down happily. I eat the bread and Bentley eats some of his food. I put the remaining few cents in my pocket and close the bag of dog food, put it in my bag and set it down next to me.

My stomach finally stopped rumbling for once and Bentley was happy too. Today was a nice day.