A/N: This is my first ever fanfiction, so please be gentle. xD Criticism is welcome, as long as it's constructive. c:
Enjoy~
A broken City Skyline
I like walking at night. It's relaxing. Peaceful. Nothing bad had ever, ever happened to me before. Not even close. No one walked at night in this town. It was weird. No one walks at night. That's gay. And emo. And no one in this shithole of a town wants to be either of those things.
I walked in solitude down the blackened streets and let the cold December breeze blow through my hair, listening to the cruch of my own footsteps. I stopped and breathed in the fresh air, missing the smokey air of New York sitting on the garden wall at 3am with a bottle of vodka.
Tonight I don't have a wall to sit on, or vodka to drink, just the cool breeze and the light snow drifting down and melting into my hair, I exhaled and watching my breath puff out as a cloud I felt the familiar, intense craving for nicotene, I took my bag off my back and rumaged through it until I got to the bottom and slipped my hand into the slit I made, feeling around for my pack of cigarettes.
I began to walk as I pulled my lighter out of my pocket and slung my bag back over my back. I light up and put the cigarette in my mouth, inhaling deeply. There was almost no cars out, so I walked in the middle of the street. The snow was soaking my shoes and there was none out here on the road.
I contintinued down the dark road, the snow swirling delicately around me, cataching in my eyelids and melting into my eyes. I came to the gate into the park and opened it, making my way down the path to the pond, and stood, staring into the still, black water.
I sighed. I didn't want to be here. I wanted to be at Uni, studying art, but I was here, because my father decided to die of alcohol poisoning. Didn't care much, to be honest. Another study-free year, if I didn't have to deal with sad relatives and moving half-way across the country I'd be delighted.
I picked up a stone and threw it in the water, remembering being seven and being beat unconsious trying to protect my three year old brother from a vicious outburst from our drunken father. He didn't deserve the send-off he was getting. Weeping relatives and people saying he was a god man on the inside, just didn't have the right luck. They were all lies, he's just being glorifyed because he's dead, it's disgusting. Even Mikey was doing it.
I threw another stone into the cool black pond and watched the water ripple. I shook the snow off my hoodie and sighed. I just wanted to go back to New York and go to college. Get a job and draw comics for the rest of my life. Was that really too much to ask?
I looked down at my feet and sighed again. Wondering when my mom and brother would notice I'm gone. Probably not until breakfast. That leaves me about 4 hours to wander around. Minus the time it takes to walk home and being early so as not to wake anyone, I only have 3 and a half hours left. But what if Mikey had a nightmare and came into my room to find I'm not there. I felt myself begin to panic, but swallowed it. He wouldn't tell. He'd just sleep in my bed. It's okay. I kicked the ice beneath my feet into the little pond.
I heard the crunch of feet on snow and spun, glaring suspiciously at the newcomer. He was short, with black hair and tattoos wrapping themselves around his arms. The metal of his lip ring gleamed in the lamp light. He looked at me hopefully, but a second after his eyes met mine, the emotion faded and his eyes looked so empty, I felt the urge to grab him and hug him until he didn't look so scared any more.
"Gerard.. What are you doing here?"
