Arthur realised he had nothing to wear. Nothing… nice, nothing cool, or spunky. Nothing he could wear out, nothing with 'personality'. A lot of his clothes were a bit bland and grandmotherly. Like for example, Arthur took in what he was currently wearing in the tall mirror beside his wardrobe:
A beige knit cardigan pulled over a thin tee shirt with a noticeable hole at the collar, that hung over his shoulders. His trousers were worse for wear as well. There was a patch at the knee and they were shapeless and a rather unflattering green colour. And the sole of one of his trainers were hanging off the base of the shoe as well.

He grabbed his wallet and bus pass and decided to hit the town for the day and see what the stores had to offer him.

After half an hour of browsing through shapeless, ugly clothing, finally Arthur stumbled upon a few things that really caught his eye.

Tall black leather lace up boots and a nice leather jacket with a silver zip line up the front. He was in love. Until he checked the price tag. Arthur felt his heart deflate all of a sudden. He almost wouldn't be able to afford it, he had rent to think about, food, but then again… he never really bought anything for himself. Most of his clothing consisted of hand-me-downs and cheap deals from op shopping and going online.

Arthur was served at the cash point by a stern and mildly miserable German man, wearing an ill-fitting green apron that looked rather ridiculous, considering his hulking frame and bulging forearms. He scanned the items with a frown that seemed to get deeper as the next customer barged his way up beside Arthur, talking loudly on his phone with heavy American accent.

'God damn entitled tourists.'

When Arthur had paid for his new items he drifted happily towards the escalator, only to trip over the broken sole of his one trainer, sending the bags flying. Arthur landed hard, pain rocketing from his elbows and knees. He scrambled back up, wasting no time, only to see that his new, expensive, things were gone.

Arthur's heart leapt to his throat, a cold sweat running down the back of his neck. There were people bustling around everywhere, pushing through and around each other. He couldn't see who might have taken from him or anyone that looked mildly suspicious, until there was a touch from behind, at his newly bruised elbow.

Arthur immediately spun around, only the see the American tourist holding the two bags gingerly at the tips of his fingers, along with his own. He had a confident grin grace his features as Arthur studied him for a microsecond.

He was a tall man with broad shoulders who had messy blonde hair and welcoming blue eyes that seemed quite genuine to him. "You kinda dropped this." He said, his voice deep but friendly at the same time.

"Thankyou." Arthur responded carefully, taking the bags back from the stranger's outreached fingers. He wore a scrutinising expression on his face, but from within he actually felt rather grateful for the stranger's action.

"Sure, any time. I'm Alfred, by the way. Alfred Jones."

"Arthur Kirkland, a pleasure to meet you." Arthur replied courteously, but he erased his former expression to bring forward a soft smile. "And once again, thank you for rescuing my bags."

"Hey, I would have rescued you from falling over if I got here in time." He laughed.

"Right." Arthur was still softly smiling as he stepped onto the escalator, with Alfred following. "So what brings you to the United Kingdom? Are you on tour, or here with your girlfriend? I hope that's not too intrusive." He wondered out loud, mostly out of curiosity.

Alfred's smile thinned, but only subtly. "No I'm not here on tour and I don't have a girlfriend right now. I'm actually here to… to see my father."

Arthur nodded. "Does he live here?"

Alfred shrugged. "He did." He spoke bluntly, and Arthur's smile wiped off his face in sudden realisation.

"Oh, I'm so sorry."

Alfred shook his head. "Naw, don't worry. Thanks though. He had been on his way out for a few years anyway so it's not like it was unexpected. He wanted to be buried in his homeland so my brother and I are here for the funeral."

Arthur couldn't think of anything to say to that. It was a heavy topic to talk about, especially with someone he'd only just met five minutes prior. They were at the doors now, which opened up to the main street.

"It was lovely to meet you anyway, Alfred. Maybe we will see each other around?" The Brit said. He wasn't a master at ending conversations, but he didn't want to hold the man up either.

Alfred cocked a goofy grin. "Hey do you wanna get a coffee or something, some time? Or maybe we could hit the bar if you'd prefer?"

Arthur considered it. Alfred probably didn't know anyone around here and this was his way of reaching out and trying to make friends. And to be honest, the only person Arthur saw regularly was his house mate Francis, who was both annoying and slightly creepy. And all in all, Alfred didn't seem that bad. A bit loud, but it wouldn't hurt to get to know someone new for once.

"You know what? That sounds like a nice idea."

Alfred's grin broadened and the two exchanged numbers.