The Smell Of Spray Paint

Four.

I felt like doing a second update today so here it is!

A week passed quickly enough and I learned lots about my house mate, Gilbert. I learned that unless he had a cigarette before sleeping he would snore, I learned he would sing in the shower even though it was in a public bathroom, I learned that he only took his face piercings off when he needed to wash his face and I learned that even though he drank and smoked, he would insist that he didn't.

I also found out that his favourite colour was red, his ego was the biggest I'd ever seen, he had ancestors from Prussia and he was a fan of lying in someone else's boy heat and liked glasses.

And I bet that as we got into the routine of our daily lives, he learned lots about me too. I had my own habits that he probably picked up, just as many as he had.

Even though the living conditions of the place I had to call home were kinda poor, I had a nice life here. Every day I would wake up after Gilbert, and he'd give me breakfast and we'd talk together. Usually it was small talk but I valued our conversations. I was happy that it meant I could call him a friend. After that I'd give him the days rent, it was relatively cheap and I didn't have to worry about running out of money because of the price, and then he'd go out for work.

I'm not exactly sure where he worked, it wasn't an employed job. Gilbert created pictures of scenery from his spray paints and sold them to tourists. I had never seen one of his works or seen him at work but judging by the money he managed to bring us back every day he was working hard.

While he was out, I mostly stayed at home. He let me count and organise his money for him to make myself useful, and I had brought with me a few books to read to try and stay entertained and I got the job of buying something for dinner while he was gone.

He would come back in the late afternoon and we ate together before he would leave again. Every night he would head out to the Berlin wall, half an hour's walk away.

I would go to bed before he got back. He woke earlier than me and slept later than me. He had seen me sleeping now plenty times and would often joke about my 'little sleep face' but I had never gotten the opportunity to see him asleep. Sometimes I would wake up in the night and hear him snoring or just breathing deeply and be tempted to sneak a peek, but never did. Maybe I just liked the idea he wasn't vulnerable enough to be watched sleeping.

Life was peaceful. There was only one problem that had stayed with me throughout my week.

I had made news.

I noticed it first when I was buying dinner for us both at a convenience store downtown. There was a massive photograph of me on the front of the newspaper. There was a headline above it but I had no clue as to what said, and wouldn't even if it was in English, I had fled from the store as soon as I saw it.

It was natural that I would make news like I did, I wasn't an adult and I had disappeared suddenly while on vacation with my family, that was worth paying attention to.

And it was kinda funny.

This whole trip, the idea of running away, came from me wanting attention.

Technically, I could go home now. I got what I came for, the world was looking for me and my family showed that they did care for me, so I could get to the nearest phone and call my mom. My job was done.

But it was strange because... I didn't want to go home.

I didn't want to go because I had found something here, someone who looked at me and not through me and held out their hand to me.

Gilbert made me want to stay.

I couldn't explain it even if I tried, but the attention he gave me was more than my face on the news papers and my family pleading for my safe return.