Royalty

One

It was hot. Too hot for my liking. Granted it was summer time in New York, and I was dressed in black skinny jeans. Sometimes I just wanted to hit myself over the head because of my thought process. Having been so used to wearing jeans and a jacket, I often times forgot that I owned shorts. 

I should have thought about my choice of clothing before I walked out the door this morning. Especially because I was currently sitting in Central Park in the blazing heat, waiting for my roommate to arrive.

Well, new roommate. 

I knew who he was. We have been good friends since we got put in detention together in the seventh grade. He's been traveling the country, trying to figure out what he wants to do with his life. But I'm pretty sure he's decided to just stay a druggie because he can sell that shit faster than you can say your own name; therefore, he makes a shit load of money. Why stop now?

But he's decided to come back to New York and stay here for a while. Plus the drugs come easier here with all that goes on. Actors looking for a way to de-stress and models trying to stay thin. He can easily sell more than he usually does. And he's really cool about the whole thing. He never tries to get anyone to do the drugs with him, if you want to try something then you just let him know. If not, he won't offer it.

So he called me up and I told him he could stay with me for a while. My apartment isn't very big. It's got two rooms, which is perfect. But it's expensive as fuck, and I'm barely able to keep paying the rent. It's a really shitty apartment building, but that's all I could afford. I always have to charm the landlord into giving me a few extra days after rent is due. But thankfully, Xander said he will help pay for the costs. 

I don't really do a whole lot to earn money. I don't have a daytime job. I help a friend of mine in a restaurant. Her family owns the place, and I offered to clean the kitchen every morning before they open. They pay me pretty well because no one else wants to do the job, but almost all of the money gets put into my rent and food. I guess you could say I'm financially stable at the very minimum. I hang on by a thread, but I'm still alive. 

Sitting on this bench in Central Park was annoying. It was loud from all the people talking and trying to sell things to you. I just observed everyone around me from behind my dark tinted sunglasses. I ran a hand through my hair in hopes that it would somehow cool me down, but it did nothing. 

Where was Xander? If he didn't show up within the next five minutes, I'm getting up and walking to go find an ice cream shop. There's got to be one around here somewhere, right? It's fucking New York City, of course there's going to be something around. 

"Harry Styles!"

I turned to my right to see Xander walking towards me. His tall and muscular figure walked around the people in his way. Xander was much taller than I was by at least six inches. And he was very muscular. He could've easily been on a football or basketball team, but instead he chose drugs. How lovely.

"Xander Lincoln. Long time since I've seen you in these neck of the woods," I grinned, standing up to give him a hug.

He slapped my back harder than I expected, and almost lost my breath at the contact. When the hell did he get so fucking strong? I took a step back and examined him. His skin was at least four shades darker than the last time I had seen him, which made his crazy blue eyes seem to glow. His jet black hair was swooped to the side and curled upwards at the ends. For someone walking by the two of us, they would never guess that he was into drugs. He looked ... healthy?

"What the fuck are you doing in tight black jeans? It's almost ninety degrees out! Are you insane?" he laughed as he looked at me. "Damn, bro. You're a skinny little thing, aren't you?"