Nowhere with You- Fillie

City Boy

Finn's anxiety was about to get the better of him.
He peeked out into the crowd of the packed bar he was about to play, an uneasy feeling in his stomach rising.
No matter how much of his joint he smoked or the whiskey he drank, he just could not shake the feeling.
Instead, he sat backstage, noodling random notes and chords on his Gibson acoustic, drifting away into his own memories.
Finn was only 18 when he left his home and moved to his own place. His parents drank a lot, and they fought far too much, which ended in a nasty divorce.
This meant weekdays with his mom and weekends with his dad. He had his brother when they were kids, but even he left home.
Finn had always felt somewhat abandoned growing up. Though he was never lonely, he just always felt alone. Like no one ever paid attention to him, or even bothered to look his way. Despite getting a good scholarship for music at a college in Michigan, he ended up dropping out because it was too expensive. It didn't really break his heart that much. He hated college. So he just ended up finding a rugged, old apartment in the south of Detroit.
Finn made a living by playing gigs at bars for older folks. Life for him at this point was just boring.
But despite his overwhelming sense of boredom, he still fell for the ease and the overall simplicity of monotony. Having a routine was simple, and Finn could get away with performing this routine for the rest of his life if he really wanted.
"Hey, dude! You're up!" Yelled an employee from the bar, shaking Finn from his thoughts.
He always smoked and drank before his sets, it helped him calm his nerves. He kind of was falling into the pattern of doing so every time he felt anxious or nervous in general.
Though, Finn had not realized just how much he had smoked and drank, and stood up far too quickly. Dizziness overtook his eyes, and a whirling sensation erupted in his stomach.
He stood for a moment to collect himself, and eventually he grabbed his guitar, heading for the stage.

The flash of the bright light only made the dizziness worse, but Finn knew that as soon as he sat down, he would be stable,
'I just have to make it to the damn stool.' He thought, as he strutted in every which direction until he eventually made it to the stool.
"What's up, guys?" Finn said into the microphone. Screams and cheers erupted from the crowd.
"Alright alright alright." Finn said again, this time the crowd laughed.
"Don't mind the McConaughey phrase. Anyway, I'm here to play a couple songs for you. And I think I know the perfect one to get us started." He said. He tuned his guitar to correct the pitches for the song.
"Here we go." He said, finally beginning to play Hey Jude by the Beatles.
He always started with that song. It served as his hook for his audience, seeing as he played many bars with patrons over 60. Personally this was Finn's favorite age group to play for. One because they knew almost all of the songs he would play, and two they were much less judgemental.
He played through his setlist quickly, trying to get it over with before he would inevitably purge the alcohol. As soon as his set was over, he thanked the crowd, and hurried off stage. The whirling feeling from earlier had come back, and he felt himself about to heave. He practically sprinted to the bathroom, guitar in hand, and finally threw up into the toilet. He dry heaved a little more just to make sure there was not anything else that was going to come up and slowly got up from the ground. He opened the stall and approached the mirror, grabbing a paper towel and wiped his mouth.
Through fuzzy vision, he was able to make out his reflection in front of him.
He never considered himself beautiful or anything, but he never really had a problem with his face, though the bags under his eyes were starting to become more noticeable each day. He stood for a moment, closing his eyes, trying to regain some balance and stability. 
Finally feeling ready to leave the bathroom, he collected his guitar, packed it up in its velvet lined case, and headed for the exit.

It was about 11:00 pm when he arrived at his apartment, at which point he felt like he could not keep his balance.
The unit was not in perfect condition, but it was home, after all.
Rent was cheap because of the train station that runs close to the apartment complex. He never really minded the sound of the trains going by. It was almost comforting for him, because he knew that eventually he would hop on one of them and never look back.
Because it was the right amount of change he wanted, no, that he needed.
But no matter how many times he would pack his bag to do it, he always had doubts and fears which flooded his mind. Sometimes he felt like he just couldn't embrace change. He feared that change would only bring back the feelings of separation, similar to how he felt when his parents split.
He sat down on his old couch, an unopened bottle of whiskey in hand and sat in silence, letting himself drift away into his own thoughts once more, barely holding on to any sort of consciousness.
'What would happen if I just ran away?' He asked himself.
He wondered if anyone would miss him here.
He wondered if anyone would care.
He sat and stared at the empty white wall in front of him, now falling in and out of sleep.
The high from the joint he smoked earlier lulled him into dreamland.

He awoke to the sound of a train whistle about 45 minutes later, his vision now significantly less blurry than it was before.
The drunkenness he felt earlier had now worn off, and he was able to see straight. He stood from his couch, and in that moment, he felt as though he had an epiphany which was something that Finn needed, almost wanted, for a very long time.
He packed his bag, just a few personal items, some clothes, a bag of money he had saved, and a toothbrush to carry with him. He shoved a few books and other things in his guitar case, before carefully packing his Gibson away in its velvet lined case.
This was it.
He was ready to start fresh, to make the change he so desperately wanted to see in his life. He said goodbye to his apartment, which had served him well throughout so many years. He ran his hands along the paint chipped walls, and kicked around a few empty bottles, which had not been picked up. He felt sadness, but he also felt somewhat satisfied, as if he was reading the last chapter of a book.
Finn locked the door behind him and slid the key and the month's rent under the landlord's door. He triumphantly left his apartment complex, and walked toward the train yard.

Finn wandered the train yard for a bit, admiring the graffitied train cars which stretched on for what seemed like forever. Large insignias in the letters NS were stamped in the middle of each of the cars read in large white letters, which contrasted the train car's rusted black color. He did not really care for which train he got on, he just needed to find a way to leave. He climbed into one of the train cars, struggling at first to pull himself up.
"I really have got to work on my upper arm strength." He said to himself in the void of the warm summer night.
He needed to escape from his boring, monotonous life.
He needed a way to find a new beginning.
And this, this was his chance.
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HEY YALL HERES A NEW PART!
It might take me a while to publish new parts because I still have classes, but I am so excited for where this story is going!
Hope you guys are enjoying it so far! 💗