Garbage || NovaHD

Puke

James P.o.V.

Seamus ran his hand through his short, blond hair, sighing loudly. He glanced up at me, his blue eyes glistening with annoyance. I stared at him, waiting for his response. He dropped his hand and folded his arms across the table. "So, you just gave him $50," I shrugged and nodded. He blinked at me slowly. "That was pretty damn smart." Seamus leaned back in his chair.

"How is that bad. I mean, it was just some kid! He looked like shit, his stomach was so fucking loud I could've heard it from the other side of the room-" 

"He could've been a fucking junkie for all you know. Who cares if he was hungry? Lots of people are hungry in this city. It's not like we live in fucking L.A., James," Seamus interrupted, his voice calm but menacing. I swallowed, then nodded. 

"I don't have an excuse as to why I gave him the money. I'm just saying that he looked terrible. Like he had been beaten up. I felt bad." I muttered, waving my hand in the air. Seamus nodded, and tugged at a curly strand of hair by his ear. 

"And I'm just saying that you should be investing your cash into something with more significance," I rubbed my lips together, staring back at the young blond. He raised an eyebrow at me, his bottom lip poking out slightly. I hesitated before I nodded. "Okay." Seamus sighed, standing up from the kitchen table. I bit at my bottom lip, catching a loose strand of skin in my teeth. I tugged on it slightly, feeling it tear away from my lip slightly. Seamus looked back at me, taking out his phone from his pocket. "What was this kid's name, anyway? What'd he look like?" I ripped the skin off of my lip completely. 

"Aleksandr Marchant," I mumbled. "Brown hair, brown eyes, pale... He was sort of skiddish. Grumpy." Seamus nodded, and typed something into his phone. 

"Well... I got t' go. My shift at the pawn shop started 5 minutes ago," He waved, grabbing his coat from off of the counter and shrugging it on. "Call me when you get the chance." I waved, and he briskly walked out the door, slamming it loudly behind him. I rubbed at my cheeks, my beard rough against my fingertips. I stood up from the table, and zipped up my own coat, surprised that the house was so chilly. Making my way into my bedroom, I thought about what Seamus had said. "He could've been a fucking junkie for all you know." I laid on my bed, staring up at the white, popcorn ceiling. I hadn't seen any track marks of any kind... But he was wearing his coat. And other than his sickly pale skin, there were no other signs of him using any sort of drug. I nibbled my lip, tasting blood. I wonder what that kid is doing right now... 

Aleks' P.o.V. 

I threw up. I hunched my body over in the small alley way, trying to make more room for myself in the cramped area. Why had my body rejected the food? Maybe it was because I hadn't eaten in so long... I spat, trying to get the taste of vomit out of my mouth. Steam rose up from the small puddle of puke, showing how fucking freezing it was outside. Sick... I spat again, and wiped my mouth off on my coat. Tears started to fog up my vision. I rubbed at my eyes with my forearm, stopping the tears from coming. I won't cry, now. No... But, fuck, did I want to. I had just spent $45 on a huge meal, only to throw it up in a dirty alley way. I grit my teeth, and spat again before making my way out on the street. While turning around a corner, I bumped into a blond man that looked about my age. I turned to look back at him. He looked back at me. His blue eyes were pale, along with his skin, and his nose was a bit pink at the end. "Sorry," I muttered before turning on my heel and continuing on my way. I shoved my hands into my pockets, and sighed loudly, wondering what in the fuck was I going to do with my life. 

"Hey! Hey, wait!" I turned to look behind me, wondering who was yelling. I was surprised to see the blond man running back towards me, waving his hand in the air to try and stop me. I raised my eyebrows in surprise, and turned to face him. He stopped in front of me, his breath coming up in big clouds around his head. "Are you Aleksandr Marchant?" I froze.