One Shots

01| Once Upon a Time

Once upon a time a smudge of dirt on my Cesare Paciotti's would've bothered me. However, once upon a time I had enough fucks to give out.

In the present, the life I live day to day right now, it seems those fucks have run out.

The high heels in question are hanging from two fingers as I walk my street barefoot.

Drunken me claims it's been a hard night. At least that's been my excuse for the past few months.

After I lost the access to guaranteed glitz and glamour.

I punch in the code to the shitty box that is my apartment. Off the skirts of the city where quality is low and rent is lower.

Sarina, my roommate, lays on the couch. Passed out with white powder sprinkled on her nose. I don't have to take a look at the lines on the coffee table in front of her to guess what it is.

High Sarina also claims it's been a hard night. At least that's been her excuse since I moved in.

But as long as she pays her cut, I have a roof over my head, and she doesn't get caught; I could sincerely not give a fuck less.

Like I said, I ran out of them.

Chuckling at the downturn of my life, I take a swing of the beer I still had from the bar, finishing it, then throwing it out.

23 years. 23 years I've live in 5 star hotels, only ever flew private, visited more skyscrapers than public parks, and now...and now on my 24th I can't even get a fucking job.

The drunken giggle escapes my lips as I drop my body on the fire escape. But I can't help it. Because life really is funny sometimes. Depressingly hilarious.

Luke, the homeless man across the fire escape waves at me with a yellow, crooked grin.

I smile back with perfect white teeth and shitty lipgloss. "Good evening, Luke."

"Evening, Sugar." He laughs. I follow.

Luke and I don't have anything in common. Simply our state of finance.

"It's a nice night tonight." I shout down at him.

He nods, looking up at the sky that gives us a nice view at the glittering millions of suns.

Our neighborhood is too broke to participate in the light pollution going on lately.

"Monroe?" He calls from below.

"Yeah?" I shout from up top. Up top being four floors above. The highest floor.

"Ricky's are looking for employment." He notifies.

I roll my eyes, shaking my head and getting up to lean over the rail so I can look at him better. "Why don't you go for it?"

"I'm content, Sugar. But you're not built for this life. Your built for condos and- and presidential suits." Luke winks.

Nodding my head, I start wondering if he means that. And if so, how? How can someone be so content having no home, barely any belongings, nothing to call yours. Once, when I came back drunk again a little later than my normal, I asked him. And he said "everything is mine. The sidewalks I sleep on, the rodents I feed. It's all mine. Just nobody knows. And I'm okay with that. It doesn't have to be recognized by everybody else as mine as long as I know it is." He tucked my hair behind my ear and walked me to my door.

"Maybe you're right, but I'd feel bad leaving you, Pops."  My sigh left me dramatically before I exploded into another fit of laughter. Luke seemed to have that affect on people. Made you feel your situation wasn't as bad as it seemed. That someway somehow, you were going to be okay.

Serena stammers out the fire escape, grinning when she sees him. "Hey, Pops!"

"Hey, Sugar!" He smiled at her like he did to me. Because as long as you lived in his neighborhood, you were his too. And he was yours.

For a homeless man he had more respect than some politicians.

Serena leaned on the rail next to me, her dark haired head falling on my shoulder. I let my own fall on top of hers.

"My beautiful girls!" Luke exclaimed.

We giggled like little high schoolers.

"Goodnight, Sugars!" He shouts.

"Goodnight, Pops!" We shout back, synchronized.

He gave us a dramatic bow we laughed at and turned the other way. We both watched as he made his way down the street to the bench he sleeps at on Wednesdays and Fridays. Watching as people stuck their heads out their windows and bid him a goodnight.

Yeah, he had a lot of respect.

Serena turned to look at me. "How was the bar?"

"Fine, how was Harred?" I asked. Harred was her supplier. And her fuck buddy. I never liked him though.

He had a suffocating aura that made you want to get away. Like if you stayed any longer in his presence your joy would wilt.

"Extra fine." She wiggled her eyebrows and we laughed some more before calling it a night.

I laid on my bed. My head hit the boneless pillow. My body laying stiff on the rock-hard mattress that was buy one get one free. I sold the other for more than I got the two for.

Sighing, I opted for staring at the ceiling when I realized tonight wasn't gonna be an easy sleep night.

Suddenly the ceiling I was staring at began to produce a rhythmic thud with moans and curses coming from above.

I turned to my side and covered my head with the blanket.

Yeah, real depressingly hilarious.