The melodious plucking of guitar strings rang out through the busy subway terminal as people rushed from all directions. The sound reached every corner of the terminal, filling it with its melancholy sound. However, it seemed to be a sweet sadness, as if it had known pain but had somehow greeted it like an old friend. A very, very old friend indeed. Only a select few would ever really pick up on the feeling the guitar player put into his music. It was ever so subtle.
Gamzee sighed softly, allowing his fingers to pluck the strings one last time, for this moment at least, and giving a fading echo to the last strings. His dark eyes averted to the small hat in front of him. He meekly drew the hat over to him, feeling a large pit in his stomach at how light the hat was. That was never good. Looking into the black fedora, his fears were confirmed. There was little money in it. Cents really. That was all. A small frown quickly etched itself across the young man's face. He counted the money quietly and slowly, no really wanting to know how little was in the hat. There was $4.20 in the hat. Two dollars, four quarters, nine dimes, and six nickels. The frown was swiftly replaced with a thankful smile.
"Well, we're eatin' tonight," he said, a light cheerfulness making its way into his gravelly voice.
He stood up rapidly, his lanky form making him much taller than those surrounding him. He certainly wasn't small, probably actually to the point of being freakishly tall. That didn't bother him though. No, not at all. He had never really cared about his appearance. His black hair was a curled, spiked, and tangled mess. He usually just let it do whatever. His clothes probably hadn't been washed in weeks. Heck, even his face paint had been smudged severely, and that was the only thing he had ever cared about appearance wise. The juggalo hadn't been living good these past couple weeks. However, a smile hid, or at least tried to, all his misfortunes.
The young man silently put his guitar back into its case, before gently slinging it over his shoulder. Then, the fedora in hand, he made his way over to the terminal's exit. Walking to that area, the scent of rain filled his nose. He awkwardly found his jacket's hood and placed it over his head, some hair still peeking out from under it. "Now...where to next?" he murmured quietly under his breath once out of the terminal. His eyes glanced around the now-wet city. There was a McDonald's, a Wendy's, and a Burger King. How lovely. Gamz tilted his head to the side a little, thinking over his small decision. "MickieD's it is then," Gamzee said, thinking it would be cheaper. He walked towards the direction of the fast food joint, whistling a merry tune under his breath. The raining had began to get heavier now, drenching Gamzee and making him sprint towards the fast food place.
He arrived there not much longer. Before entering the quaint little place, he wrung out his coat the best he could. Once he wasn't dripping as much, he headed inside, that merry whistle still on his tongue. There was a little ring as he opened the door, which startled him at first. He just hadn't been here for a while. That was all. He relaxed once again, slouching as usual. With a plastered on smile, he finally looked around. The McDonald's was firmly packed. People were even standing and eating. Gamzee frowned. Again. He had been doing a lot of that lately. He gave a loud sigh before preambulating over to the cashier to give the woman his order. He gazed at the dollar menu.
After a while, he finally decided on his order. It wasn't fancy, but it was good. "Two McDoubles," he remarked to the woman behind the counter. "A small fry, and a small drink!" She gave an almost animalistic, yet bored snort before putting in the order. Gamzee, however, did not notice her mood and just gave an idiotic grin. The woman, who Gamzee finally figured out to be by the name of Morgan (Her name tag), turned around and picked up his requested items of food in a bag. They were definitely not fresh. They had probably been sitting there all day actually, not that the young man minded. He just wanted some grub.
In the end, Gamzee used up all his money to get his small order. Not a single penny was left. However, he still had his classic ever-so-thankful smile on his face. He turned around once he had his food. He trotted over to the drink fountain machine. He filled his small drink up with ice before examining what options he had drink-wise. He didn't have to think long. They had tropical punch. The eager man mentally fist pumped, before leaning his cup up against the fountain. The marvelous, bright red liquid filled the cup quickly. A little too quickly actually. Gamzee really should have paid attention when it started to overflow. However, he had been staring wistfully outside. He noticed his mistake the minute his hand felt the cold punch. Gamzee snapped out of it, cleaning up his huge mess while a few people surrounded him gave him incredulous looks before returning to their food. He gave a slightly embarrassed look while grabbing some more napkins to clean up his spillage.
Once that was all over with and the counter wasn't as sticky, the man with the still bright cheeks put the lid on his cup and then poked the straw through. He took a rather loud, nearly obnoxious sip and enjoyed the refreshing taste and coolness of the tropical punch as it made its way down his throat. He smacked his lips loudly and gasped, feeling a lot better. He turned around, no longer facing the drink fountain, to see the crowded restaurant again. There still wasn't anywhere to sit or even stand and get comfortable. Gamzee rubbed his chin thoughtfully before strutting over to the exit of McDonald's. He threw open the door swiftly before casually walking out of the fast food place, food in hand and examining the dark, starless sky.
The lanky man shambled down the still wet sidewalk. "Darn rain," he murmured, being sure to shield his food from the rain. No way was he allowing his precious food to get ruined. Gamzee awkwardly placed his drink in between the crook of his arm, bending down to drink it while he used both hands to stuff his food under his jacket.
He was still attempting to stuff his jacket with the bag containing the food when a sudden force jerked the bag out of his hand. Gamzee felt the same force give him a sharp push to the belly, causing him to stumble backwards quite a few steps. As he stumbled he noticed a swift, golden blur whirled past him. He blinked rapidly and held his hands out, trying to regain his balance. Once balanced, he shook his head, processing what had happened. He concentrated ahead of him, seeing a figure dashing away. There was the golden blur he had seen. It was hair. The Golden One was getting away!
"Hey, you! You better get the motherfuck back here!" Gamzee bellowed, racing after the Golden One. The chase had begun.