Pointed Gun

You Trust me, don't You?

Syncear

WALKING ALONGSIDE a mysterious God sounded as nerve-wracking as I could possibly make it. Though the actual process wasn't anything extraordinary. We talked about anything other than my relationship status, which was beyond great. Going back and forth about what we enjoyed and what we didn't filled most of our conversations. We laughed about silly things we encountered, bringing me into the topic of crazy and absurd shit Blair and I did in our years. I didn't feel judged and didn't get judged either. Not that I was expecting anything like it the slightest.

Because of our mindless conversing and such, the walk felt shorter than normal. Having an all-around good time with the fresh company had a way of doing that at the worst times. Who was I kidding, it happened all the time.

"You know, I think it's crazy we keep bumping into one another at the craziest times." It was a realization that had slapped me once the conversation fell flat. New York was a large place and filled to the brim with different faces and different places. To fall into the eyes of a single person multiple times in a single week was kinda weird. I wasn't sure which weird I wanted to classify it though.

Boston nodded along with an answer in his mind, his eyes to the ground with each step. "New York is a weird place. Not many you can trust. Yet, here I am."

I had nothing to say back to that. I knew for certain that serving your trust to every hungry customer nowadays was as dumb as sticking a wet warm tongue to a freezing metal pole in the middle of a blizzard. How difficult it would be to retract something you'd already tossed to the wind, forever to float adrift. Not a mistake I would choose so kindly.

Standing so close to Boston without even noticing, he felt distant and cold. He seemed to wander without uttering a word to make me believe otherwise. He was a volt. I could sniff the signs from a mile away. I could also spot that he didn't enjoy speaking more about himself in a conversation unless being asked, and even then, he wouldn't dare. Doing the line of work I loved, transformed me into a human analyzer. I blinked in someone's direction for a second and already, I was trying to figure them out. I gave myself a headache sometimes.

The streets around my apartment building were calm oddly enough. Away from the roaring music of the festival farther behind us and the tumultuous celebrating folk was nowhere to be found this far away from the hype. I enjoyed it that way, believe it or not. I didn't exactly enjoy being held against my will by annoying teenagers who never wanted to grow up and adults who missed the memo.

You're just too old, I'm sorry.

Sometimes taking a breath away from partying and fun was just what I needed to make it alive in the city that apparently never slept. The exact city that didn't hold any family or any real reason to stick around besides Blair, and my job. If given the slightest chance, I would make this place a distant memory. A very far distant memory. And Blair, well, she would follow. Not a lick of convincing needed.

As my building came into view, I puffed a small sigh of relief. Boston looked up at me. Smile extinct.

"Is there something wrong?" His voice was deep, and I couldn't tell whether or not he actually cared to hear the answer or I was simply reading too much into simple words.

I shook my head.

"No. Just prepared to crawl into bed, that's all."