Frank is an average worker, living on his own in the big city, when he meets a boy of around the same age, living on the street.
R&R if you want more/want to read on? I'd really like to continue this but idk if people will like it or not c:
The air was crisp and cold. Frank held his hand out to test the freezing raindrops that began to descend from the large, booming, overhead clouds, and grumbled, pulling his hood over his head hastily and escaping back into his place of work. He stood under cover, watching the dark city slowly empty as commuters let out small cries as they stepped from their work places and leapt into taxi's home. He leant his back against the brick wall and sighed a little in relief that he didn't have anywhere to go any time soon, so he wasn't pressed for time. He could stay here till the rain was gone completely.
Frank glanced across the road, sighing softly and tutting as he watched the familar group of youths set up across the street. Frank saw them often; they all wore similarly scrappy coats, some of them had shoes, but not all, dirty trousers, and ripped gloves. They curled up together on the side of the road, barely under cover, shrugging up their shoulders and hunching their bare knees to their chests. One of them, who seemed like they could have been the black sheep of the group, was huddled on his own, a few metres away from the larger group. He gazed softly across the road at them, but mostly at the boy on his own. The boy glanced upwards and shared a little, slightly intimidating eye contact with Frank, watching him intently, as if someone had never locked eyes with him before. He considered walking across and giving them some money - but he only really had loose change, and he didn't have enough to share amongst them all. He waited a little longer, standing there absently as his fingers burnt in the cold october air, watching the flickering, dim street lights until he decided it was time to go home.
Frank wriggled out of bed the next day, smacking his alarm and rolling onto the floor. He crawled across the room and dressed himself loosely, rolling up his sleeves around his tattoos. Work was fine; he could have his tattoos out and no one would ridicule him, or call him odd. He combed his hair messily and brushed his teeth, before locking his door behind him and walking down the street. The sun was out this morning, the sky a light blue, the frost settling on the ground around him. He stopped to buy a sandwich for lunch, and headed into his workspace, a local guitar shop.
Frank was particularly fond of his work. Mainly because he rarely actually did any work - he played guitars, he held demonstrations, he'd sometimes pick out some strings for a customer, but none of it really felt like any work. After several hours he sat down in the corner, and started eating his lunch. He gazed across the street, again at the familiar youth who sat hunched.
"What're you looking at, Frank?" Ray asked, catching Frank's attention. Frank ripped his gaze away from the youth and turned to look at him.
"Oh, uh, nothing."
"It's sad, isn't it?" Ray sighed, taking a bite from his sandwich. Frank tilted his head at him, confused.
"What do you mean?"
"Well," Ray put down his sandwich, still chewing. Frank decided to ignore the occasional flecks of sandwich that fell from his lips. "He's only a kid, you know? I don't think he's much older than us, he shouldn't be on the street. It's sad." Frank nodded in understanding. He wondered if he should go across, and give him some food or money, now that he was on his own. The rain may have stopped, but the air was much colder than before and it hurt Frank to know that the boy had to suffer through his without even a pair of decent shoes on his feet.
"Should I go talk to him?" Frank asked, turning back to Ray. Ray nodded, deciding not to speak with the amount of sandwich he had in his mouth. Frank stood up from the seat. "Cover for me, till I'm back." He picked up the sandwich he was yet to eat in his hand, and delved into his pocket for some spare change. He wandered across the road, gazing at the young boy, who was sleeping quietly against some large, stone steps.
"Excuse me?" Frank asked, quietly, deterring from touching the boy in any way. The youth's eyes flickered open, jumping a little as he saw Frank stood before him. He backed up slightly, tugging the loose blanket around him. "Hello."
The boy shrugged, looking up at Frank.
"Uh, hello." He replied, shivering in the cold. Frank had little else to say to him, and held out the sandwich to him, along with the spare change.
"Here," Frank smiled gently, as the boy took the food gratefully. He nodded softly to Frank, eyeing the food suspiciously.
"Why are you doing this?" The youth asked, holding the food and money in his hands. Frank shrugged.
"You need it more than I do." He replied, simply, gazing at the youth. Now he had a better look at him, he had a little more idea about who he was. His hair was a wild red, though his roots were coming through aggressively, so it was likely he hadn't died his hair for a long time. His eyes were large, and hazel, with a smooth painted nose, and pale, icy skin. He bore dark bags under his eyes, his fingers particularly skeletal as he took the items. He nodded in reply to Frank, putting the money in his pocket, and holding the sandwich in his hands.
"Thank you." The youth replied, smiling weakly. He didn't say much else, and rather looked down at his lap, embarrassed. Frank lingered a little longer before heading back over to the store, watching the youth again, who had now delved into the sandwich. Ray finished attending to one of his customers and walked over to Frank, settling his elbows on the desk. "Did you talk to him?" Ray asked. Frank tapped his fingers on the table, absently.
"Yeah, he didn't say much. Seemed pretty suspicious that I was giving him stuff, though."
"Why do you think that is?"
"How the hell should I know?" Frank shrugged. "Guess he isn't given stuff much, could be a bit weird for him, I don't know."
Frank spent the rest of his shift loosely, the youth in the back of his mind, sitting there, and shivering. When Frank glanced out of the large windows once again, the boy was asleep, curled up among the ice and frost. Frank sighed, stepping out of the shop and walking back to his own apartment, feeling pretty well off.