It was fucking freezing. I could see my own breath hanging in the air as I trudged down the overly luminous street in front of me, alone.
Tonight has been the worst night of my life. I blew all my money at the casino, my fiancé ditched me for some wealthy bald guy, and she took my car!
My nice ass Porsche that she begged ME to buy because she thought "It would look nice." "Well nice my ass! I could barely even afford to pay that thing monthly, and now it's in the hands of that bitch and her money bags sex toy-"
I stop myself then, taking a deep breath, trying to control my rampant anger. I look off towards the bustling street, lines and lines of cars honking and speeding down the busy highway.
There are rows and columns of casinos, hotels, and strip clubs, all coated with nearly every damn neon color imaginable. There are crowds of people outside each building, all gossiping about what they're going to gamble on or what stripper chick they wanted to "bring home" after their shift was up. There are so many people, and yet I've never felt more alone.
"It seems even Vegas can't sleep at night." I think to myself, filling up with a sense of melancholy.
I sigh and lament: "Oh well, there's nothing I can do about it. I've lost my love, my money, and my only way home."
I halt at the gaping mouth of a dim alleyway, seeing as it was lit by a garbage can fire surrounded by a group of hobos.
Some of them turn around towards me, giving me the side-eye for staring at them. I wearily force my legs to move down the alleyway. They barely make room for me as I stick out my hands towards the fire, trying to encase any warmth it may give me.
They all reek, clearly not having access to a bath in weeks, and I could tell that they were skin and bones under their ragged clothing, meaning that neither them or I are getting a good meal anytime soon.
"Welp, this is my life now. I'm officially a hobo in the middle of a corrupt city in the fucking desert." I realize with a sinking feeling of morbid acceptance. Looking at the group of men and women around me, I decide to say something.
"Well fellas, at least it can't-" I began sarcastically before hearing the second most unholy and irritating noise to mankind: an angry New Yorker.
I was fine with the racket, but for some reason it scares the other hobos shitless. They all scamper over each other like wild animals, running and jumping away from the loudly cussing voice in the distance.
Before I could ask what they were running from, I felt a large, almost mitten like hand land on my shoulder. I turn around and jump out of my skin, screaming at the horrific sight in front of me.
Standing in front of me was an unusually tall, purple man(?) with long, gangly limbs and gargantuan hands. He had no eyes, nothing but what appeared to be white pinpricks of light that could read your every move if they wanted to.
"Jeez, sorry about that, old sport. I didn't mean to startle ya." The creature apologizes. He- I think it's a he, gave me a curious look, giving me a once over with his alien-looking eyes. His hand was still on my shoulder, somehow.
"Hey, you seem to be new around here, old sport." He observes. I simply nod, honestly feeling too freaked out to respond.
"Well then, let me extend ya a Vegas greeting!" He finally lets go of my shoulder, then holds out his huge hand in front of him.
"Why hello there, old sport. My name is Dave, Dave Miller." He says.
I try to not to vomit as I grab his hand and shake it: "Hi, my name is (reader's name).
Dave shakes my hand vigorously, before letting go and asking me: "So, old sport. What brings ya to Vegas?"
I think for moment, wondering if I should really tell this strange man about my failed Vegas vacation with my now ex-fiancé. I decide to keep it vague at least.
"Oh, I went here on vacation with my fiancé, but she dumped me. Now I'm a hobo living my best hobo life." I shrug, some snark sneaking into my voice.
"I-" Dave looks flabbergasted, he clearly wasn't expecting a response like that. He awkwardly clears his throat before replying.
"That sucks, old sport. Ya know, in some ways, I get what you're going through." He says, looking a little pained for a moment. I look at him with mild interest.
He looks back up at me with a surprisingly easy smile on his face: "I was ditched here too, so we're both in the same boat!" He exclaims gleefully. I didn't really see what there was to be happy about but hey, at least he was being optimistic.
Grunting at the exclamation, I try to make my way around him, not wanting to talk to him anymore, until he grabs my wrist all of the sudden. "Shit!" I yell, startled by the giant's swiftness.
"Hold on there, old sport." Dave requests. Well, seeing as I couldn't really move, I had no choice really.
Dave swivels his head around, a dastardly look on his face. "Old sport, why don't I take you on a date!" He declares loudly.
"...What?" I ask. Dave leans in close, uncomfortably close, to my face and says: "You're single, I'm single. We've both been ditched by our respective partners. So, I think we should say fuck'em and go on a date ourselves!"
"..." I don't say anything, my mind going into a state of shock. My first instinct is to ask him if he's stupid, but I refrain for my sake. I simply state what else is on my mind: "...Dave, that is a terrible idea."
"But WHY NOT!!!" He whines explosively, tears in his eyes because of the rejection. "Because what if our partners come back?!" I yell back. Dave flinches a little at my yelling, before he explains himself further.
"Old sport, we both know that neither of them are coming back. They left us for bigger, better things in their lives. They didn't realize how good they had it with either of us, so they left. They ain't ever coming back, even if we want them to."
I look at Dave with pity, noting how defeated he sounded. God, I'm not going to be able to get myself out of this, am I? I heave an enormous sigh, before placing my other hand on Dave's. It's horrible, really. No one should "get back" at their partner, even if they did cheat on you, but...
"Hey Dave" I say, grabbing his attention. I try not to retch again as I kiss him on cheek. "Ya know what? Fuck it, I'll go on a date with you." I say, a mixture of disgust, regret, and excitement swirling inside me.
Dave grins ear to ear, and then swoops me up into a big hug. I let him squish me for a few seconds before he promptly lets me go and grabs my wrist again.
"You won't regret this, old sport! I can't wait to eat kebabs and rob a bank with you!" He says cheerfully. I feel a wave of panic soar through me at that statement. Before I can say anything, he drags me outside the alleyway, into the wild Vegas night.
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Heckkkkkk sorry about this guys! When I was deleting some of my update stuff awhile ago, I accidentally took some stories out in the crossfire. Thankfully someone pointed that out in the comments and now it's back up! Thank you @Pineapple-Dirk for telling me this! I hope you enjoy the completed story!
