Father and Son (In The Heights)

Chapter 4: Arrived

Here with another chapter!! Every Saturday for the two people reading lol.

---Karl's POV---

"You must take the 'A' train, even farther than northern Manhattan and maintain, get off an 181st and take the escalator- I hope you're writing this down, I'm a cab driver, I don't say things twice." With that, the cap peeled off, making already miss the luxury of a chauffeur.

He was going to rent me a car because my fancy cars were most likely going to get broken into and robbed by the people in this neighborhood. I already felt out of place, every step I took made me recoil with disgust at the rubbish by side of the road, the ghetto feel of the whole place.

I hadn't actually written anything down but someone with an intelligence level like mine, 5 degrees, could remember these simple instructions easily.

Except the accent was kind of hard to sort out.

"A" train... past Manhattan... 181st... I texted these floating pieces of information to my chauffeur, the only aid I'd brought with me.

Then I set off, doing everything I could to avoid any contact with the people I was- so many hispanic faces. I kept my hand on my wallet the whole time on the train, up the escalator, and came up smack in the middle of a dilapidated neighborhood.

de la Vega Bodega read a patched sign above one of the crappy stores that lined the street, painted with faded reds and painful yellow-oranges that screamed low class.

A sign that said Rosario something was being painted over, and I restrained the growl that rose in my throat. How could he work at that place? That place looked like a dump even as parts of the sign began to be covered with smooth, urban beige.

A car's horn blared at me from my left, a battered Chevy that looked as old as me. Yikes.

Then this fossil pulled up beside me, rolled down the greasy window and there was a freshly groomed white guy, suit and tie, holding the steering wheel with white gloved hands, his eyes alight with disgust. My chauffeur.

"This is our car?" I sneered with disgust as he opened the door for me, looking resigned.

He dusted his hands and sighed, "It's only for now. Since your valuables are currently in the car, I wouldn't risk a fancier on, sir. Plenty of people here don't even earn enough to own a car. Just by having one we draw attention." A squawk came from the door, injuring my ears.

I sighed too and declared, "The least we can do is get this thing fixed up." I handed him my phone, ordering, "Nearest car mechanic."

He nodded, accepting it and putting it in a safe compartment before pulling out of the spot, which wasn't even a legal parking spot. The red paint was so chipped and faded that it wasn't really valid. In any case, in a neighborhood like this I was pretty much entitled.

Not because I was classist, but like, really. I was.

My chauffeur shifted gears. "I'll get you there, sir."

I had arrived.

To all reading THANK YOU : ) HOPE YOU LIKE IT!