King of Nothing

Now

"What's up Noah? Why'd you call me to this random alleyway?" Casey asks me, astonished about why we were here.

"Because I am homeless, and this is my home. Great observation for wanting to be like Sherlock." I say, winking at her. Hopefully she can tell my slight, airy tone of sarcasm. 

"Aww, dang flabbit." I was surprised she was quoting such a childish show. Hell, I'm even more surprised I  know about this show. Hannah Montanna is meant for children after all. "For wanting be like the world most highly functioning sociopath I sure can be exceptionally stupid." Casey snorts while she laughs. She isn't sad by her mistake, she laughs upon it, taking it as something she can learn from. 

"It's not a problem, this is all surreal for me too, by the way. I'm still getting used to my surroundings...even if it's been two years." I shrug, I tried not to sound confusing. 

"How did you end up becoming homeless, anyways?" Casey asks. It was about time she did that, she had gone on for so long without having curiosity overrun her. 

"It's quite simple you see, I had it all, and now I don't." A single tear runs down my eye, as I am reminded of the horrid memories than came from back then. 

"Okay, that's fine. Don't tell me." She sounded perfectly happy with me not telling her, she wasn't trying to be sarcastic, which I am used to getting from people in todays world. 

"I'm sorry, I'm just not comfortable with telling you right now. So sorry. Maybe once we become closer as friends, when I know I can trust you. I just hold it so dear to me, I've never ever told anyone else." I explain, Casey nods. Thank God she understands. 

"So where were we? Oh, yes! I was asking why you told me to come here." Casey uses an excess amount of hand gestures, I just notice this now. 

"I made you come here so you and I could plan our sweet revenge on your prick of a boss." I say, smugly.

"Thanks, but no thanks. You heard what he said! He practically threatened me violently with that butchers knife, and then said he will make sure I won't ever get a job again, if I quit. I'm a little cornered if you ask me, this isn't even the first time he's done this. I'd rather veer away in a safer direction. I'd rather not cross paths with the volatile Mr. Meanie. " Casey elaborates big time on her financial, or, I should say, working conditions.

"Well what if I had an idea. Where I could guarantee you a job. Would you consider it then?" I ask. She nods slowly.

"Yes...but, you're kind of homeless. How would you guarantee me a job?" She uses those airy quotation marks around guarantee. She doesn't believe me. 

"Us homeless people are like middle-aged men that watch My Little Pony. You don't know we exist, but we do, lurking int he shadows. We have our mysterous ways. We have our motives and purposes." I wink at her, and she guffaws at my ridiculous, but true, metaphor. 

"Alright, but before I go rushing head first into some revenge crazed antics, I need you to get me that job first." Casey counters. 

It was simple, I had it all prepared. "Here," I said. Holding up a stack of little index cards. "Call this number, and read what the cards have written on them, okay?" 

"Okay." Casey then takes out her phone and carefully dials the number onto the keypad. 

It rings for a minute. Then someone picks up. "Hi this is Liz Armada speaking how may I help you?" Liz answers. It makes me concave internally hearing her satin voice.

"Well, I, err," Casey pauses for a second and reads the rest of the card. "I saw your sign out in public and I noticed that you needed a lawyer's assistant. I was wondering if  I would be capable for the job?"