Authors Note: Hey guys, I'm back! First of all, apologies to all the people that follow my stories that haven't been updated in forever, but I promise you, they will get updated. I have not abandoned my stories and I won't, but my life has been very hectic lately, plus, my computer crashed a few months ago, wiping everything I had on there, including the new chapters for all my stories. But, my computer will be fixed soon and I can hopefully get back to updating. This story was written on my old computer, and it was all written in the middle of the night in the space of two hours, after repeatedly listening to the song What Would You Do? by Bastille. There may be some spelling errors, etc, as I haven't had time to go through it all properly, but hopefully it's not too bad.
This will be a two shot fic, with the second part hopefully up within the week, possibly a bit longer but not too long. The second part will also be a little bit longer than the first chapter too. I hope you all enjoy it.
This Is What I Call Life
What would you do if your son was at home
Crying all alone on the bedroom floor, 'cause he's hungry
And the only way to feed him is to, sleep with a man for a little bit of money
And his daddy's gone, in and out of lockdown
I ain't got a job now, he's just smoking rock now
So for you, this is just a good time but for me, this is what I call life
Girl, you ain't the only one to have a baby
That's no excuse to be living all crazy
So she stared me right square in the eye
And said, 'every day I wake up, hoping to die'
She said, 'I gotta know about pain 'cause,
me and my sister ran away so our daddy couldn't rape us
before I was a teenager I had done, been through more shit, that you can't even relate to'
Bastille - What Would You Do?
It was bar that you'd never been to before, just a place you were walking past on your way home, where your three month old son was waiting for you, being looked after by your friend Polly while you went to another interview. From the amount of people waiting in the hall, to the skeptical look the boss gave your resume as you told him the reasons why you would be great for the job, you knew you hadn't gotten it. It was just a waitressing job, but you had no experience, only an English Lit degree that was basically useless to this man who needed someone to take orders and know what the fuck they were doing. It was the fifteenth interview that you'd been to in two months and you were feeling depressed and worthless, scared to lose your apartment as you were almost three months behind on rent and you needed a fucking drink or six.
So you'd stopped here to drown your sorrows and wonder what the fuck you were going to do, wonder if you and your son were going to end up on the street. Polly had no extra space, since she had just given birth to her second child with her husband Pete and your parents hadn't been an option for over a year. They had disowned you from the moment you told them that you were three months pregnant and that the father had ditched you upon hearing the news, not two days earlier. You're pretty sure they would have rathered a criminal for a daughter, than an unmarried whore about to give birth to a bastard child.
You had no other friends and you'd been getting by for the last few months on government money, but it just wasn't enough to support you and your son. You could feel tears building in your eyes as you downed the shot of tequila that the bartender had placed in front of you, giving you a sympathetic look as he took in your fancy shirt and heels and the smudged mascara on your face.
You were barely twenty three years old, less than a year out of college, with a three month old son that you couldn't provide for and no hope for the future. You wondered if you shouldn't just end it all now. Take the bottle of antidepressants that you'd been given by the local hospital's therapist and then drink until you fell asleep and didn't wake up.
But you couldn't do that to James, no matter how hopeless and horrible you felt. His cute, pudgy face and his bright blue eyes with that cheeky smile were the only things keeping you going. And you would go on, you'd find something, no matter what it was.
You were interrupted from your thoughts by a man leaning next to you at the bar, smelling of cheap alcohol and giving you a leering grin. He was an attractive man and he wore a light gray suit, with his blonde hair ruffled and he could have been a doctor or a lawyer, though an unkempt one.
"Hey baby," he slurred, his bloodshot green eyes raking over your body in a way that made you shiver unpleasantly. "How much you charging? I got hard the moment I saw you walk in here."
"Excuse me?" You managed to splutter at his bold words, already grabbing your bag and getting ready to make a hasty exit.
"I asked how much you're charging, sweetheart." He asked again, almost stumbling as he reached behind him to pull his wallet out of his pocket. "You look high end, so what, three hundred for the night?"
You stared at him in shock, watching blankly as he opened his wallet which was practically bursting with cash. It suddenly occured to you exactly what he was asking, how much he was offering and you felt sick to your something and yet..
It was as if someone else took over your body as you leant your elbow on the bar and gave him a sultry look. "Honey, you've got to be kidding me. I charge three hundred for an hour."
He looked up at you from beneath messy blonde bangs, his expression surprised before he let out a husky, nervous chuckle. "The way you look? I bet you do. I ain't never done this before, I'm not sure how it goes."
"There's a hotel down the road." You couldn't believe the words that were coming out your mouth, you felt like you were going to throw up, but you needed this. There were no jobs in your near future and you had a son at home, who needed you to take care of him. You needed to do this. Just one time, you thought to yourself; just once so that you could get your landlord off your back and buy enough time to find something better. "You get us a room and then you pay an hour or more, depending on how long you can go for, baby."
"All right!" His grin was huge and excited as he took your hand and practically pulled you off of the stool. "Lead the way!"
/
Four years later..
It's getting late, you can see the sky darkening through the thin blinds that cover your window, the moon climbing to replace the sun in the sky. Loud voices sound from the television set behind you, not helping your slowly growing headache as you open your freezer door and pull out a chilled bottle of vodka. Your thumb absently wipes away the thin layer of frost that covers the label as you subtly turn your head to catch a glimpse of the two figures sitting on the worn leather couch, one significantly older than the other. Noticing that their attention is glued firmly to the screen, you unscrew the cap and take several hasty swallows of the clear liquid, not even batting an eye at the sharp burning sensation as it slides down your throat. More than a quarter of the bottle is gone before you slide it back into its carefully hidden spot behind two frozen loaves of bread, silently wishing that you could down the whole thing but knowing that a stumbling fool is not something you can afford to be tonight.
You turn around to face the couch, tightening the belt of your tan ladies trench coat, which barely reaches your knees, and study the two figures that barely acknowledge your existance. One of the people is a sixteen year old girl, though she could be mistaken for a college student with her mature attitude and quietly observant eyes. Her long brown hair is tied up in a messy ponytail and her lips are stretched into a grin as she laughs at the program on the TV. Her brown eyes dart towards her much smaller companion as he giggles with her and you can't help but smile at the warm expression on her face as she slings an arm casually over his shoulders in such a sisterly act before returning her gaze to the screen. Her name is Lucy and she lives down the hall with her alcoholic asshole of a father, though she spends most of her nights sleeping in your bed while you work. You met her when she was thirteen, hiding in the stairwell with a bruise covering half of her face and she's helped you out whenever she could since that day, the same day you almost knocked down the door to her apartment and scared her father within an inch of his life as you yelled at him while waving around a butchers knife grabbed hastily from your kitchen.
The second person on the couch, the one who makes your heart thump almost painfully with affection and love every time you look at him, is only four years old. His almost pitch black hair is the complete opposite of your golden blonde locks, the only resemblence he has with his long forgotten father, but his eyes match yours; a clear, twinkling blue like a perfect day. You never thought you could ever love someone as much as you love him, have loved him since the first moment you saw his tiny face and felt his warm weight in your arms. He is the one and only reason that you continue your pitiful excuse for a life, and you would do anything for him. He's small for his age, small enough to still pick up without any real effort and he has a few dark freckles across his pale nose that wrinkles when he smiles.
And he's smiling right now, though it faulters slightly when he catches a glimpse of you out of the corner of his eye. He notices your clothing and the dark makeup around your blue eyes and a tiny frown creases his forehead. "You leaving?"
You take a few moments to answer, forcing down the lump that's stuck in your throat, created by the forlorn expression on his face. "Yeah, baby, I gotta go to work. But you've got Lucy here to play with, so you won't even notice I'm gone."
"But you said you'd stay and watch cartoons with me on Friday and it's Friday now." It was true, and the hurt in his voice is tearing your heart in two, but you'd gotten your latest electricity bill yesterday and it was more than you expected, so you have to work.
You try to remind yourself that you don't have a choice; it's not like you want to leave, to leave him, but you have to. You're the adult here and someone has to put food on the table and so you force a somewhat shaky smile, meeting Lucy's sad, knowing eyes for a moment before returning your gaze to your son's. "I know, James, and I promise that I'll watch cartoons with you for the whole weekend to make up for it, okay? But I really have to go tonight."
His expression lightens slightly at your promise of an entire weekend in your company and he finally nods his head in agreement, loosening the metal band around your heart. "Okay, mama."
He's such a good kid, you think to yourself as he gazes up at you with obvious adoration. You're never around much and you don't get to spend as much time with him as you would like, but he rarely ever complains, even on the nights that you come home empty handed and he goes to sleep hungry. He doesnt have any fancy clothes or cool video games and he has very little friends; a completely different childhood to the one you had yourself and it makes you hate everything sometimes. It makes you hate your parents that disowned you and his father that vanished once you told him the news of your pregnancy, but most of all, it makes you hate yourself for not being able to give him a better life than this.
Fuck, he's such a good kid and he deserves so much better than this.
"I love you," you murmur as you lean down to press a kiss to his forehead, pushing his dark hair away from his face as you pull away. "Be good for Luce, okay? She's probably missing a super cool party to hang out with you tonight."
"Pfft," Lucy scoffs at your words. "Like I'd rather be anywhere else, right, kiddo?"
You give them a smile as they giggle together, turning briefly to look at your reflection in the mirror before you pick up your purse. You slide it into the pocket of your coat as you head towards the door, ruffling James's hair as you pass. "Okay, well, I'll see you crazy kids in the morning, okay? I'll make bacon for breakfast, if I don't get any complaints from the neighbours about the noise."
You grin to myself as you hear the volume of the television quieten immediately and slip into your high heels that are waiting by the door, which you then quietly close behind yourself. Taking a deep breath, you adjust the collar of your coat before walking determindly down the hallway towards the stairs, your expression changing from one of a loving mother to that of a seductress as you ready yourself for the long night ahead of you.
/
The walk from your apartment to the club that you frequent is thankfully short, as you feel the chill of the late January breeze blow against your face. The street is bustling with people, ready to start their weekend with heavy drinking and dirty dancy and you put on your best smile as you walk straight to the start of the line. You are spotted almost immediately by the bouncer at the door, who returns your grin and nods his head in acknowledgement as he moves to let you pass. "Hey, Piper."
"Hey, Luke," You return the greeting, giving the tall man a warm smile as you stop beside him. "Good crowd tonight?"
"Yeah, I reckon you'll have an easy time in there. Give a shout if you need a hand, yeah?"
"Sure thing." You give him a friendly pat on his bulging bicep before walking into the club, where your senses are immediately overwhelmed by the noise. You maintain your composure as you glance around the large room of one of the most exclusive nightclubs in New York called Litchfield. The club consisted of three seperate levels, with the bottom floor being a massive dancefloor, with a small bar situated at the back of the room. Strobe lights flashed from every corner of the room, making it seem as if the dancers are moving in slow motion as they grind against each other in the midst of a sea of people. The second floor has a much larger bar, stretched from one end of the room to the other, along with poles built into the counter for strippers to dance on and many booths around the room for the customers to sit and watch. The third floor was the roof, which was much quieter, allowing conversation and that's where you always start your night.
You skirt the edge of the dancefloor, bumping gently into sweaty bodies as you make your way towards the stairs, adding a slight sway to your hips as you walk. You keep a seductive smile on your lips, raising your hand occasionally to wave at a few people that you know before you start up the stairs. You give a brief glance towards the second floor as you pass it, noticing the amount of people in the room and the money that is being carelessly thrown onto the bar for the scantily clad dancers and know that it will be a good night for business. The bar is completely packed, three people deep and there are two young girls dancing to that irritating Milkshake song on top of the counter. You smile drolly as you continue up the stairs, feeling a cool breeze blow your hair back as you finally reach the platform to the roof, which is almost as packed as the bar.
"Piper!" You hear a familiar voice call your name and a genuine smile lights up your face as you turn towards the small bar, almost hidden in the corner. There's a woman smiling back at you, with long red hair and kind blue eyes and you give her a wave before making your way over.
"Hey, Rach." You give the bartender, one of the few people in this city that you call friend, a smile as she reaches for a nearby glass and immediately start to make your regular order.
"Hey baby!" Her smile is warm and geniune and it makes you smile wider, because the woman before you knows almost everything about you and she can still smile at you like that without a hint of disgust in her eyes. It makes you want to cry every fucking time. "Is this a
social visit or are you working tonight?"
"Working," you answer briefly, noting the way she nods her head without the slightest bit of judgement. Again, you want to cry. You love this girl.
"That's a damn shame, I thought I might actually get a little bit of company tonight, I'm so fucking bored." Her gaze flickers past you for a bare instant and her kind eyes immediately become stormy as her expression twists into one of barely concealed anger. "What the fuck are you doing here, Michael?"
"I thought I'd come and say hello to my favourite girl." There's another very familiar voice, one that sends chills racing down your spine and causes your left wrist to immediately start aching, where the bones were once broken by the very man with that rough, horrible voice. You can still remember that night clearly, just over six months ago, when what seemed to be a normal night turned into a nightmare. This job had always been a gamble and injuries weren't uncommon, just another risk that came with the profession, and it wasn't the first time you'd ever been beaten, but it had been the worst.
A three day long hospital stay and a broken wrist which had only been one of the multiple injuries you received that night, when a long time customer had finally shown his dark side.
You don't bother to turn around, keeping your eyes locked on Rachel as you feel him move so close behind you that you can smell the sickening scent of his cologne. You can imagine his face, with that ever present smirk of arrogance and you can practically feel his dark predatory eyes as they roam over your body.
It makes you want to throw up.
"What? No hello for me tonight, Pipes?" The way he says your name so casually, like an old friend, makes your stomach turn and you take a large mouthful of the margarita that Rachel places in front of you, relishing the familiar taste of tequila on your tongue. "Don't be rude now, look at me when I'm talking to you."
"Back off, Michael," Rachel's eyes are practically on fire as she glares furiously at the man behind you and you've never loved her more than you do right now. "Don't make me get Red."
"I'm not causing any trouble, I'm just saying hello." His voice is as smooth as velvet, concealing the animal underneath the crisp white shirt and carefully combed hair. But the animal appears soon enough, with the way his hand grips your arm a bit too tightly to be friendly as he attempts to turn your around. "Come on, Piper, I'm trying to fucking talk to you here."
You're about to open your mouth to call out for security, but the fingers that gripped your arm are removed before you can make a sound and another voice speaks for you.
"You don't want to do that, my friend," the new voice is soft and warm, spoken casually though the threat behind the words is clear. "Leave the lady to her drink; if she wants your company, I'm sure she would ask for it."
"Who the fuck are you, asshole?" You turn around to find Michael's arm held tightly by a man, who is at least a hand shorter than him, but whose body is held straight with confidence. He's attractive, with neat dark hair, lightly tanned skin and a thin moustache and his expression is polite despite the less than gentle grip he has on Michael's wrist. "Why do you care how I touch her? She's just a fucking whore."'
The moment the words slip out Michael's mouth, his face twists in pain as your saviour twists his arm, his expression remaining calm. "I don't like rude men that think they have a right to a woman's body. I am many things, but a misogynistic asshole in not one of them. Now, leave, before you say something that I make you truly regret."
With a rough shove, Michael is pushed into the crowd and the relief that flows through you makes your knees shake. You give the stranger than now stands before you a trembling but grateful smile and he returns it, reaching out to guide you onto one of the stools in front of the bar. "Thank you...?"
"Fahri, and it was no problem. No man should speak about a woman like that," the stranger, Fahri, says kindly as he sits on the stool beside you, resting his empty scotch glass on the bar, which Rachel immediately begins to fill.
"Well, it's not like what he said wasn't true," the words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, a slight note of self loathing in your tone which cannot be hidden, and Rachel opens her mouth immediately to protest, but you shake her head weakly and she turns away with a huff. You turn your gaze to the man beside you, expecting disgust or worse from this complete stranger, but instead find unexpected warmth and understanding in his dark yes.
"Not all of us can be doctors or lawyers," he answers, giving you a gentle smile and you find yourself returning it as your hands finally begin to stop shaking and you finish the rest of your drink. "Why don't I buy you another round and then you can come sit with my friends and I, if you want?"
"I'd like that."
/
It's barely midnight and it's been two hours since you left the bar to join Fahri and his friends, and an hour and fifty nine minutes since all your drinks were put on his tab. Your alcohol tolerance is higher than most, but you are beginning to feel the tequila that has replaced the blood in your veins and you know it's a problem but you can't find it in yourself to care. You're also realizing that Fahri has a very interesting circle of friends and there's something not quite right with some of them, but you find that you don't care about that either. No one has been anything but polite to you since Fahri introduced you and while you know that you're here for business, you're actually enjoying yourself for the first time in what feels like forever.
The current conversation is literature and you can feel the straight A student and college graduate inside of you brighten up as you discuss Shakespeare and Virginia Woolf, putting your college degree to good use for the first time since you left Smith. You majored in English Literature and Theatre and it's been years since you've used this part of your brain and you find yourself enjoying it immensly, especially when the men and women around you give you admiring looks every time you add your thoughts and opinions to the conversation, as if they're of worth.
Despite the amount you've had to drink, you're not wasted enough for the business side of your brain to shut off completely, and you notice the hungry looks that you've been receiving, ever since you removed your coat to reveal the tight black dress underneath. You've taken note of at least two men that could be potiential customers; one of Fahri's companions and another man that has been watching you from the bar for the last thirty minutes. There's also a woman, one of Fahri's business associates, who has been watching you discreetly since the moment that you sat down. You're unsure whether it's desire in her eyes or just curiousity, but every time you try and meet her gaze, she turns away and resumes her conversation.
You stand when the conversation turns to the stock market and excuse yourself to go to the bathroom, giving Rachel a small wave as you pass. You enter the bathroom, ignoring the two women at the sinks and slip into the cubicle, relieving yourself and taking no notice of the opening and closing of the door. When you exit the stall, the two faceless women are gone, to be replaced with Fahri's business associate, whose name you thought was Alex.
Even leaning against one of the polished white hand basins, she is still a hand taller than you, with piercing green eyes half hidden behind a pair of black rimmed glasses that study you intently. Long raven black hair frames her pale face, streaked with electric blue dye with bright red lips that pulled up in a slight smirk. She wore a pair of skin tight black leather pants, covered half way up her calves by her black Doc Martins and a tight white tank top that showed off her ample cleveage to your admittedly appreciative eyes. She wasn't conventionally attractive, or conventional anything really, she was just smoking hot and she knew it.
Confidence. You've always appreciated that in a woman. It was something you needed in your line of work and this woman was full to the brim of it.
"Hello," You greet her politely as you wash your hands in the sink next to her, carefully checking your flawless make up in the mirror in an attempt to avoid her intense stare. "Alex, is it?"
"That's right." You've heard her low husky voice several times during the night, though never directed at you and it sends a pleasant shiver down your spine. "And you're Piper. I've heard about you."
You turn your head to meet her gaze now, surprised at her words. "Oh?"
"I'm a friend of Nicky's," she explains and you nod, a smile stretching your lips as you think of Nicky. She was one of your first customers when you started your little business, introduced to you by Red, a motherly figure to you both, but it didn't take long before your strictly business and pleasure relationship turned into one of friendship instead. "She talks about you all the time, said a lot of good things."
"And bad things, I'm sure," your words come out unexpectedly flirtacious and you manage to surprise a laugh out of your bathroom companion, who nods in agreement.
"Oh yeah, Nicky can have quite a mouth on her sometimes."
"Don't I know it," you murmur in response with a smirk, your eyes searching Alex's face as she gazes straight back at you. It might be the alcohol, but you're pretty damn sure you can see more than curiousity and amusement in her eyes. There's want there, hidden beneath the surface and again, you find yourself surprised. Alex doesn't seem the type of person who would have to pay for companionship, but who knew, maybe she was just curious about the business. "So, Alex, you know what I do for a living, what about you?"
There's that smirk again, confidence mixed with amusement and you feel your heart flutter in your chest. "I work for an international drug cartel."
Your face doesn't move a muscle, even as the words and their meaning roll around in your brain, because this time, you're not surprised. You knew there was something shady going on with Fahri and his group, a little more than a friendly get together when you saw money exchanging hands and black suitcase being place subtly beneath Fahri's chair. You think Alex expects more of a reaction from you, but she doesn't know the life you've led for the past four years, doesn't know the huge array of people you've dealt with, from the highest in society, to the lowest scum of the earth.
International drug dealers? Big fucking deal. She'd fucked an ex con, two weeks out of prison less than a month ago, and he'd been put away for murder. Alex had no fucking idea.
"Sounds exciting," you answer politely, grabbing a towel to dry your hands as Alex continues to study your neutral expression. "You get good benefits?"
"Medical and dental, no bodyguard though," Alex answers with a grin, her face relaxing at your playful tone. "Seems like you get a better deal than me, since half the bouncers in here are watching you like a hawk."
"They're good people and they keep me out of trouble," you reply with a warm grin. "Your salary is probably triple mine though, you could always just buy a bouncer of your own."
"True," you watch as the curiousity flickers once more in Alex's eyes and you expect the question even before it's asked. "How much do you charge a night?"
"Why?" You ask coyly, turning your head to gaze at her with the most seductive look you can muster. "Just curious or interested?"
The burning desire in her eyes is all the answer that you need.
/
You don't even take a moment to look around the hotel room, you already assume what it looks like, just by the amount Alex pays for it. As soon as the door closes behind you, your hands are on her face, pulling her down into a hungry kiss which she returns without a moments hesitation. You are unsurprised when she immediately takes control from you, leading you to the bed where she pushes you down with gentle but insistant hands, before covering your body with her own. Her demanding tongue parts your lips and you release a moan as you taste her for the first time, finding yourself unexpectedly enjoying this business transaction.
Though, if you think about it, you have always enjoyed your female customers more than the male. Women were always softer, less inclined to raise a hand against you and almost always gentle with their touches. Men were only ever interesting in their own pleasure, which you can't blame them for, since all they pay you for was to give them pleasure. If they wanted to make love, they'd get a girlfriend; they wouldn't waste that kind of effort on a prostitute.
But you can already tell that this isn't what Alex is after, though, you aren't quite sure what she's after at all, as she nips your neck and whispers in your ear all the dirty, wonderful things she's going to do to you. Her hands are gentle as they knead your breasts, sending sparks of electricity through your body and your arching back and quiet moans are not the usual rehearsed performance you would normally give. It's all real and you know you shouldn't be feeling this way, but you do and you're helpless to stop it.
You pull off her shirt and press an open mouthed kiss against her collarbone as she unzips your dress and slides it down your body. A finger is hooked in the waistband of your panties and a moment later, they are ripped away and a warm thigh is pressed between your legs creating friction and pulling another breathless sigh from your traitorous lips. Your hips begin to rock of their own accord, smearing your wetness against her skin and you can't help but smile at the growl that escapes from her throat, animalistic and downright sexy. It's barely a second later that her hand replaces her thigh and then she's inside you and it feels fucking amazing and god, you probably shouldn't be getting paid to be feeling this good. You can barely remember the last time sex felt anything but degrading and painful and for a moment you forget why you're here as you dig your fingernails into her back and beg her not to stop.
She's pressing herself against your thigh as she fucks you and you're still concious enough to grip her hips and pull her against you harder, in rhythm with her thrusts and her moans begin to intertwine with your own and it's the most beautiful symphony you've ever heard. It's amazing how in sync you are with every push and thrust, complete strangers that nevertheless seem to know every inch of each other, know every spot to touch that brings you closer and closer to the edge. You're so in sync that you both reach release and cry out at the same time, breathless and sweaty as she pushes against that spot inside you and makes your insides seize with pleasure.
Her body collapses ontop of yours, a warm comforting weight and you wrap your arms around her, caressing her glistening skin with your fingertips and pulling a soft purr from her lips. It makes you smile and you can't stop yourself from pressing a kiss to her temple, only to have her lips cover your own a second later and then it's starting all over again.
/
You wake as the first rays of sunlight begin to shine through the window and you allow yourself a moment to stretch your pleasantly sore body before you slip from the bed. It isn't often that you spend the night with the person who pays you, but sometimes it can't be helped as your exhausted body relaxes into the mattress and your eyes flutter closed. You spare a brief glance at the woman who still lays asleep beneath the pure white sheets of the hotel bed and smile as you slip into your dress and pull on your shoes. The sheets cover the lower half of her body, leaving her bare from the waist up and you don't think you've ever seen skin as soft and beautiful as hers. You allow yourself a brief touch, feeling the softness beneath your fingertips before you pull away and pick up the notes that were left on the bedside table. For a moment, you consider leaving the money, since last night hardly felt like work but you shake your head and put the cash in your purse before walking to the door.
You still have bills to pay afterall and a son to feed and no matter how good last night was, you would take the cut on your concience to put food on the table. You wouldn't feel guilty.
You give Alex one last look, take a mental picture to comfort you on worse nights, before you slip out the door and into the hotel's hallway. You make a mental list of all the things you need as you leave the hotel and step onto the streets of New York, forgetting about the woman you've left behind. Your first stop is the post office to pay your bills before you continue on to the grocery store to pick up what you need for breakfast. As you past the bookstore that is around the corner from your apartment, you notice a chemistry book in the window, remember the exam that Lucy has coming up and pick that up too. It's not long before you unlock the door to your apartment, only to find the two inhabitants in the same spot you left them in, though they have traded their day clothes for pyjamas.
"Hey kids!" You greet them happily, dropping the chemistry book on the couch beside Lucy before leaning down to press a kiss to the top of James's head. "How was your night?"
You listen to them banter on about their night happily, geniunely enjoying the story your son tells about the scary movie he and Lucy stayed up to watch. You give the older a girl a wry look as your four year old son explains a certain scene in which the girl was literally cut into pieces and Lucy at least has the curtesy to look slightly guilty. You fry them up bacon and eggs, trading your own plate for a cup of strong coffee, after you change out of last nights clothes and into a pair of track pants and your old Smith hoody. And as you watch these two people who mean so much to you from across the table, eating and talking excitedly about the weekend of cartoons that awaited them, it makes you appreciate the good things in life and forget about the bad, if only for a few moments.