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Everybody needs that - a meaning to life
Sometimes she wants to be Michael Jackson. Sometimes Paul McCartney. And on occasion, maybe even Miss Henson from next door. That is just how most people thought she assumed. Everybody wants to be someone else and if not constantly, like herself, then sometimes. Whether or not they tell anyone is their own business.
The life of others always seems easier than your own, or at the very least more bearable. Painted in colors so much brighter than your own. Regardless, at the end of the day, everybody goes to those same dark places.
"You want another one, mate? Well, there you go!" Avery jumps at the loud voices in the alley down the road. It is right around what looks to be some kind of night club. Out of the corner of her eye, she can see two men standing in front of each other, fists raised, and both drunkenly stumbling. One of them connects his fist with the other man's face, who immediately falls to the ground, letting out a yelp of pain.
"Fucking prick!'' The man who is still standing says once again. He begins to turn away and leave, but before he can do so the other one grabs his ankle and pulls him onto the ground right alongside himself. Avery's face has changed color and her normally rosy cheeks have now gone white, competing with the artificial light of the street lamp.
"Hey, you can't do that." she croaks trying to raise her voice but failing as the stress of the current situation takes over her body. His gaze wanders away, looking for anybody who could stop these two men from beating the life out of each other.
That's when she realized that they weren't beating the life out of each other but rather the one on top was beating, what appeared to be an unconscious body lying lifelessly on the ground of the alley. "Fuck, fuck, fuck." Her mind was racing with memories and it became difficult to concentrate on the present. Her breath began to quicken, but Avery made her way over to them.
It's on America's tortured brow. That Mickey Mouse has grown up a cow. Now workers have struck for fame because John Lennon is on sale again.
"Hey, you! Why are you punching him?" She politely yells, trying to calm down the mood that had been created. She was never one for heated situations of any kind, as they never suited her well or did her any good.
"Cause he deserves it." The man grumbles, landing yet another punch to the jaw of the other before spitting into his face. "Fucking prick." He murmurs again before finally getting up from the ground, and taking a glance down at the damage he had caused. From far away he had seemed a lot smaller, now he was towering over Avery, making her feel incredibly thin and useless.
"You know him?" he nods towards the ground. There's sweat rolling down his face and his pupils are dilated. He honestly looked like he just escaped prison with his freshly buzzed hair and white wife-beater top.
"Yes," She quickly nods as her palms begin to pool with sweat, the man steps even closer towards her.
"You plan on telling anybody what you saw?" He came impossibly closer, so close that she could smell the copious amounts of alcohol on his breath. Avery shakes her head without hesitation. The guy nods and takes another glance down at his victim before walking deeper into the alley.
The boy on the ground has yet to move an inch
"Uhm... Are you okay?" She carefully steps forward toward the motionless body. That is the first time Avery can get a clear view of his features. His brown curly hair is covering his right eye, he has a very structured face with high cheekbones and a sharp jawline. Though his features are quite strict he looks sympathetic.
A second later the guy coughs, holding his chest while doing so. Avery jumps back a little when he props himself up on his elbow, still in a coughing fit. She stays quiet, watching the stranger, her heart still beating heavily.
"That was a nice speech." He finally manages to say, now properly sat up while leaning on his elbows. He looked like he was comfortable like he was casually laying on his couch instead of in the dirt behind a sketchy club at 1 in the morning. "I had everything under control, but I owe you a thank you."
Avery swallows, her eyes not leaving the handsome boy. "Why did you punch him?" She asks, instead of accepting his apology. He didn't have to apologize.
"He looked at me funny." The guy shrugs, finally getting up from the ground, patting away the dirt from his shirt and black jeans. Avery immediately avoids his gaze, her eyes focusing on her shoes. "That was a joke." He adds as he notices her behavior.
"Oh," she murmurs, still not looking up at him. "I'm sorry, I don't get that."
"It's fine," His voice has changed from being quite confident and careless to calm and careful. This is why she just avoided talking to people. "I'm Harry, is there anywhere I can take you?"
Avery raises her head, Harry looks rather presentable again. Ignoring the fresh cut on his face, it wasn't obvious that he had gotten into a fight. "I'm good."
"Why are you out this late all alone?"
"Why are you out this late all alone?" She replies, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater because she can't rid herself of the anxiety she is feeling. Always a racing mind, always a loud heart.
Harry dodges her question. "You know that song?" he is quiet for a second before starting to quietly sing, to her, an unknown tune. "If you be my bodyguard I can be your long lost pal. I can call you Betty and Betty when you call me, you can call me Al... maybe you're my Betty, I mean you did just save me."
Avery had never heard the song before nor did she understand what Harry was implying, so she just lied. "I'm not that into music."
He frowns but soon after a grin appears on his face. "Uptown girl, she's been living in an uptown world, I bet she never had a backstreet guy, I bet her mama never told her why... Let me take you home."
She couldn't tell if him making these music references was a normal thing for him. Or if it was simply because he was slightly tipsy.
"I don't know you." Her nervousness had calmed down considerably until he took another step towards her, holding out his hand. Avery immediately jumped back, wrapping both of her arms around her small frame, her big eyes fixed on Harry.
"Are you okay? Did something happen to you?" He lowers his hand and looks up and down the street. "Did someone hurt you?"
Her breath quickens as the memories begin to flood in all at once. "No," Avery manages between gasps. "I was alone. Can I just go home, please?"
Harry steps back, eyes not leaving the strange girl standing in front of him. "I'm sorry... Uhm... Are you sure you are capable of making it home on your own?'
She slowly nods. Harry didn't look like a threat, nor did he act like one, But he was still a stranger who had just moments before gotten himself into a fistfight with another guy.
"I'm not going to harm you if you think that. We can keep a healthy distance between us if that makes you more comfortable."
Avery shifts her weight from one foot to the other. Her mind begins to think of a thousand things once again. "Why would you do that?"
"A favor. I can't risk the very savior of these dangerous streets getting harmed on her way home. Now, can I?" He jokes, giving her a warm, genuine smile.
"I wasn't planning on going home actually." What would she do back at home? Drown in her thoughts once again, making it another night doing things she knows she shouldn't. She'd rather be outside.
"Great, let's get a fish and chips then." Harry grins, leading the way without paying any attention to whether she follows behind him or not. Just before he disappears into the darkness of the streets, Avery begins to trail closely behind him. And he knew.
