Mark pulled his scarf tighter around his neck as the wind hit him. It had to be less than 20 degrees out here. He zoomed in on the birds huddled together as they tried to keep warm. Panned to the little girl clinging to her mother, they were sitting on the steps of a building, their belongings at their feet. I saw my breathe suddenly fog up the lens, I wiped it gently with my scarf.
How the hell had it ended up like this? Every part of him was frozen down to the bone. He was wearing his thickest long sleeve shirt, his two thinner sweaters and his big coat, and somehow it didn't stop from the chill from seeping through. He looked around at the many people on the street, some wearing less than he. There was trash littered on the snow, among it, butts of cigarettes, baby pacifiers, plastic cups from the Life. A petite girl across the street was buying coke from The Man, was shivering in her thin clothes as she dug into her pocket for money. He recognized her from somewhere. Mark guessed she was one of Mimi's friends from the Cat Scratch. The money in hand, The Man smirked and wandered to find his next customer while the girl walked away, her pale shaking fingers already pulling out a dollar bill to roll and start snorting.
We sat on his rooftop, Scarsdale lay around us, most lights out except for a couple off in the distance.
Roger sat playing his guitar, "Mark do you think we'll ever get out of here?"
I shrugged, thinking about my parents yelling at me about homework, telling me to go to Hebrew class, them smiling sweetly at Nanette who they were trying to pair me with. I closed my eyes, imagining all of it gone.
"I sure hope so."
Roger kicked the can next to him, "I've always dreamed of getting away to New York. Would you ever come with me?"
I smiled at my best friend, New York had to be better then here, anywhere else would be better than fucking Scarsdale.
"Yeah, I want to go to college first though, then maybe I'll join you out in the big city."
One year of Brown before dropping, before coming here. When he first came, it all seemed so exciting, so new, so free. Mark zoomed in on some artists as they painted the sides of an abandoned building. He no longer saw the New York in the same light. Mark sighed.
He panned to see a man in pain, I bent down to help him. His eyes were beady and yellow-ish, he only pushed me away. I sighed as I continued on, it was hard to be optimistic now.
Roger was dying, Mimi was dying, Collins and Angel were dying, all the sadness sat on his shoulders. The power and the magic of the city had dimmed. Mark tuned the corner heading to Tompkins Square Park, stationed on almost every bench were huddled homeless just trying to survive. Trying to survive, that's all we're doing anymore. Filming, singing, acting, we're all just dreamers now. Dreamers in a sleepless city.