Chapter Text
A sudden gasp pierces the air as you tumble down the stairs along with all the baggage you brought. Today has been absolutely agitating, on many rage filled levels. How unlucky can one person get??? Or maybe you should say clumsy...
Driving for an entire day isn’t a cup of tea; the traffic, the gas stations, the highways, yowch. And of course, when you get here the landlord can’t even find your keys to the single new resident he had today. Your clearly unfit resident manager seems to not have much left in his brain, telling you straight up that he misplaced it clearly not thinking twice about it.
So now you are sitting at in the lobby tapping your foot. You have a mound or luggage at your side as you listen to each person pounding on the steps up to the lobby. The first floor has Is the most expensive laundromat you’ve ever seen, and the elevator doesn’t work down there.
Some of the people spare you a glance or hello but most of your estranged neighbors… probably hate people, the stairs, or perhaps both. You suppose first impressions don't matter to everyone up here in New York.
All you can do is tap away at your phone, your mind going elsewhere when you see the different things on your feed. When the landlord walks out- and he has keys! The keys jangle in his hand as you let out a loud sigh, let’s get this over with. While trying to hold all your luggage, you join the man in the elevator. Despite the tight fit, you make it work in the rusty elevator shaft. It quite literally feels like you have to force your feet move forward, waiting for you two to reach your new home.
You look down the hallway before giving the doorknob a twist, here goes nothing. Walking in its quite empty, obviously, but for some reason still a shock. Turning around to your landlord, you see he is.... already gone, great. With nothing else on your schedule, you look around, before just plopping down on the ground. Your just grateful to be here, but furniture, sounds like a battle for a later date.
_
It feels like you've been sat for hours when you look at the clock, 7:00, sounds like dinner time! You REALLY want to order it right to your door…. So… badly…. But you remember what your wallet looks like right now, your smart enough to decide against it but the desire for that door dash app persists. Pulling yourself up with a physical and mental groan, you slide on the first pair of shoes you can find in your bag.
Finding that fresh and new breeze you let it flow through your system. You have no idea where you are going or where you came from. Almost an instant reminder to all the times you’ve been lost. Pushing that aside back out of your headspace, you just walk straight, maybe at some point your will see a sign that piques your interest.
When you see a tiny shop, you smell the delicious aroma of possibly the best Chinese cuisine you’ve ever smelled. Maybe you will be in debt, but it will be for a good reason. You turn sharply letting impulses purely control your movements as you find yourself sitting at the register, scanning through the several menus. Your stomach is rumbling and you're starting to get impatient, so you take a guess at what’s good and cross your fingers.
A walk of shame of to wait at the counter, quickly changes when you hear them call out your order number. Practically skipping your way to the designated boxes. But to some despair, you spare a quick glance and realize there isn’t an empty table. Pausing in your movement, you decide it would be best to just eat at home. So, pushing the door open wide you swerve to go right back the way you came- and with a thud you feel resistance. A lot of it.
So much so that your hands swing and scramble to grab on to something, anything. But of course, your mission unsuccessful. The concrete pounds your back requiring you to peel and pull yourself off the ground, looks like someone’s gonna be sore tomorrow. Finally getting your eyes to focus, you see a hooded figure. All you can do is squint at him, the dark of the city street not helping you decipher the man Infront of you.
Giving him a quirked glance, his already strong facade immediately breaks. Tense in the shoulders and hands reaching into his pockets and looks all around the area before spitting out a very uncoordinated apology.
“Oh, um I didn’t mean to- sorry uh are you okay?” He stares with his eyes looking like there just about ready to pop out of his head, his gestures big and dramatic. Helping yourself up you shoot glares right back at the awkward individual, thanks for giving a helping hand bud? Grabbing the now half empty food containers when you see him just standing there. “Are you okay?”
Clearly out of his mind, a seemingly switch flicking back, bringing him back to you. He gives his head a slight nod, snapping out of the trance. “Uh... er did I just ruin all your food…?” At this point, you can’t even feel mad, just very confused, maybe a little lost? Looking down at your feet he follows your gaze as he spots the scattered chicken chunks sitting right at your feet.
He takes a moment before he shoves his hand right back into his pocket, yanking out a 10 and a 5. “If you want, I could take care of it, I wasn’t really watching where I was going; Really- truly my bad.” Speaking with the upmost concern in his voice over the tiny accident. Offering a small thankful nod his way. You grab the money offered out of the navy-blue sleeve covered hand.
Offering the kind words with a smile, any sort of tension remaining fades away. “Hey with that money, you'll be eating like a queen tonight, no need to thank me really.” Cracking up at the joke, laughing with the unfamiliar face like a long-known friend. With nothing else to say, you decide it’s your time to go back home. Hey, finding delivery with a 15-dollar budget, never threaten someone with a good time.
You can’t get the small gesture out of your head, you first day here has been, well… rough is an understatement. But aside, from everything else, it was sort of a nice interaction? It was definitely better than the rest of the day.
Leaning your bruised back against the elevator, you let out a small snort at the money in your hand. Settled inside a sort of comforting state of mind, it wasn’t like he was a saint per se; you were just guaranteed that that was a once in a lifetime selfless act, something you needed to make to finish off the day. After today's shenanigans, it felt pretty nice.
You remove the key from your door as you find yourself on a half-deflated air mattress. You pick up your phone, snorting at the time before debating what pizza toppings sound best.