graffiti - z.m.

{ 6 }

As I had reached the Brooklyn Bridge - that being the pathway under the actual bridge I had stopped to catch my breath. I couldn’t see Louis anywhere behind me and so I collapsed on a bench nearby. Bypassers looked at me with strange curious gazes, as they were out on their early summer evening walk.

I was in shock. I could feel how the adrenaline rushed through my body making me feel dizzy, but my mind had not yet grasped what had actually happened. I felt numb, powerless, confused.

I managed to get my dress zipped again, as sobs escaped my lips as breathes. My eyes constantly on the way back to the gallery making sure he wouldn’t turn up. As I got my dress fixed, I stepped out of the shoes quickly and hurried into the Brooklyn area, with the hope of finding a cab.

“Sir - sir please. I can ensure you I’ll be able to pay, when you’ve driven me home. Please,” I spoke in through the rolled down window of the yellow cab, there wasn’t long till it would turn dark - and I had been walking for what seemed like ages.

“I’m so sorry miss. It’s a matter of principle - have a good evening. I can’t help you,” his brown eyes remained without doubt of his denial - just like the past five drivers I had managed to stop had been.

My shoulders fell and I stood up looking around in despair.

He was about to roll up the window again, after having disposed his finished cigaret.

“Wait,” I put my hand on the shield and he stopped the process of closing it looking at me with a puzzled gaze.

“Miss I’m sorry but -”

“Yes. Yes I know that - but do you know if there’s a phone I could borrow somewhere nearby?” I was starting to get nervous - this area seemed shoddy and the types around here were the kind who hid their faces in hoodies and walked around in worn sneakers. I had seen several with more tattoos than I could have time to count, before they had quickly rounded a corner hurrying out of sight.

I had no idea where the hell I was. I had walked at random trying to get to a more trafficked area in search of a cab - or a bus maybe?

“I don’t know. Ask bypassers.” And with those harsh rude words he rolled up the window fully and started the engine - leaving me alone on the street, still totally lost, in a short cocktail dress and some heels which hurt so effing painfully I felt like crying. My hair was a mess, my makeup was a mess. This whole situation was a mess and the late summer evening was about to turn dark.

I couldn’t even take a seat anywhere - the dress would be totally ruined if I sat down on the dirty sticky sidewalk. I couldn’t see any restaurants which looked proper enough, that I dared asking them to use their phone. My mind was clouded with all those stories about young girls being taken and never seen again. How they would get drugged and …

I was on the verge of freaking out as I started walking again - the only people walking by would hurry away and didn’t look up, and they all seemed as potential kidnappers to me. Oh god! If I hadn’t lost my purse in the dark with Louis. Louis... that. That. I couldn't find a suitable insulting word. How could he! 

A lonely abandoned and less charming construction side stretched out on my right hand, as I walked up the pavement. My eyes searched it quickly with disgust - it was so… messy, left unfinished and to decay. Weed was even starting to grow between the single pieces of construction material, which had been left behind.

Then my eyes settled on something - someone. A bare exposed wall but someone was working on a piece - a graffiti painting. I couldn’t quite make out what it was yet, as it was barely finished but it looked like some surrealistic motive, which people on LSD would come up with.

With a quick decision I decided this graffiti painter might be my only hope left - even though there was the possibility of him being a rapist or gang member or druggie or God knew what else!

And so I started walking in over the terribly uneven area in my Louboutin heels. As I came closer the sharp smell of the toxic spray paint filled my nose, I was able to make out the appearance of the person - a guy I noticed to my dismay.

He had black hair and a slender body - which of course was filled with tattoos. God I prayed he wasn’t a gang member. What on earth was I even doing here! Making my way over an abandoned construction site, struggling not to fall over the bricks, empty cans and other strange objects of trash.

As my eyes settled on a practically unrecognizable couch, which way laying upside down I snorted. It had probably been a comfy bed for some homeless people at some point during this rather warm summer. It looked like it had been put on fire…

I neared him with every step. Trying to keep myself together. I had learned you had to seem confident, look strong - that would scare them from doing anything bad.  

“Excuse me?” I yelled - glad my voice didn’t sound weak. God don’t let him turn out to be a criminal or a lunatic. I watched his muscular back - he didn’t even flinch at the sound of my voice. He simply continued working on his piece. Ignoring me completely.

If it hadn’t been for the fact that the sky was now gradually turning from a strange blue to a light pink informing me of the near sunset - I would have hurried away. But I had to get home somehow. And he seemed to be the only living soul I could ask for help - even if he was a criminal.

I speeded up and nearly stumbled a few times, “excuse me!”

Still no reaction at all. Surely he could hear me - there was barely three meters between us. He was just plainly ignoring me! What a prick  - what was up with people around here! They seemed absolutely inhospitable and rude.

He just kept spraying with that neon violet color, moving the can with quick shift movements. His white t-shirt was covered with stains of color, so was the tight black jeans and his black converse.

Anger flushed through my body anger and exhaustion over this entire day! My feet hurt, I had practically been attacked by someone I once had loved and I was in some Godforsaken place in damn Brooklyn! I crossed the last space - not giving up on this.

I noticed all his cans laying at the foot of the wall.

"Could you just stop for a second for Christ sake!" I yelled as I bravely poked his shoulder blade with my index finger. He was probably full of toxic chemicals from the painting. When was the last time he showered?

He turned around in surprise, as I was lightly wiping off all those dead toxic stuff I now had on my index finger on my dress - and probably in my lungs too.

I hadn’t been expecting him to turn that shiftly, and I froze in the middle of the wiping, as a slight gasp escaped my lips. Adrenaline pumping through my body - was he going to attack me too? I wasn’t sure I could handle that twice a day. I would break down in tears. As I took in his beautiful hazel eyes, which flew up and down over my body, he removed one earphone.

Had he just checked me out? And so obviously! He clearly lacked the manners of a gentleman. But that was probably to be expected of people living here… I moved uncomfortably under his intense gaze, and crossed my arms before my chest as a shield staring back at him.

I watched as his lips suddenly parted; "what the fuck do you want?"

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a/n: yay all the fun things are about to happen now ha! ^^