Chapter 1: Familiarity
It was the voice that drew him; hauntingly familiar and completely sorrowful. He normally avoided walking, prefering to take a cab or to the horror of many, attempt to drive the traffic that was Manhattan. Coming out of his usual coffee haunt, Sebastian Smythe was going to hail one of the many New York taxis lining the street when the song had drifted on the cold November breeze and had ensnared him like the siren songs which almost led Odysseus to his doom.
With a quick glance at the sky, he deemed that the forecasted snow would hold off a bit longer and began walking towards the melodious sounds eminatting from the corner. As he drew closer, his gaze took in the body huddled against a shop window, clutching a battered guitar, a dog lying next to him on the spread blanket.
The man, as the sweet tenor voice could attest, continued strumming, eyes closed as he allowed the music to take him far away allowing Sebastian to study the obvious talented singer. The guitar case, open and filled with only a few dollars, was as worn and battered as the guitar. The man was wearing several layers of clothing, attempting to suppress the November chill of winter in New York City. Like his guitar, his clothes were scruffy and worn as well as obviously dirty. He looked to be wearing most if not all of his available wardrobe and yet Sebastian could still see the minute shivers of cold which had seeped into bones. His hair was long, matted and obviously curly, not having seen a barber or a wash for who knew how long which the man attempted to tame under a dirty beeny. His face was covered in a long scruffy beard. Both hair and beard were coal black. It was was when the singer opened his eyes, though, that Sebastian felt all air leave his body in a rush. He could recognize those honey-hazel eyes anywhere. Sebastian was starring into the homeless face of Blaine Anderson.
A/N: Should this story be continued? Reviews are love.