Author's Note: This chapter will be showing us what's going on in Regina's life in this world, I hope you guys enjoy it!
Vegabond is you…restless wanderer…giving more than you can take
Regina's shoulders ached as she forged through the mass of people on the New York City sidewalk. She had slammed it against someone, who must have been all muscle, as she mad dashed out of Central Park. Her boss was going to have her ass on a silver platter. 7:15am, red digital numbers informed passer-bys on an electronic billboard. She was late…again. Although to any average person seven in the morning would be the beginning of the day, New Yorkers had been up for hours. This was truly the city that never sleeps; Regina loved. She was intoxicated by the thrill of it, the constant buzz of energy that was tangible in the air. She lived for it, and when it clouded her vision and clogged her systems, drove her absolutely mad, it still enticed her.
Central Park was her little slice of serenity in the big bad city, but even it could not be protected from the contagious hustle and bustle of the city. It was constantly moving. Slow was not a part of the Big Apple's vocabulary. Regina bounded onto 2nd Avenue, a street that was constantly at war with itself on whether it was a party street or a business street. The first three buildings were architectural masterpieces, pleasing to the eye despite their old age. They were apartment complexes, that while being far past their prime managed to survive charging a huh stipend to live there. A perfect example of how diversified New York City was could be found by examining those apartments residents.
The walk of shame was only beginning as Regina passed by the apartment complexes, she smirked, her eyes gazing over the associated "clientele", as she labeled them. Past the complexes was an abandoned law firm, which now served as a monument for street artists and street kids; it brought attention to "Madame Tink's Pyschic Shoppe", which occupied the shop space above the graffiti museum.
Regina resided in the first apartment complex on 2nd Ave, and like most all of the residents of 2nd Ave, had been to Madame Tink's at least once. (For Regina it was a good solid once.)
Regina had and never wanted to see that horrid woman again. She had what, politely put, could be referred to as a "troubled" past. Regina had grown up in Brooklyn, her parents had divorced when she was four. Cora, her mother, was very strict (politely put) and unreasonable. When she was a child, Regina had sometimes wished that she could divorce her mother the way her father had. (She still did on certain days even now, all grown up.)
Regina ran away from her mother when she was ten years old and convinced her mother to let her live with her father on the opposite side of Brooklyn. Life with her father were her premature golden years, the only part of her childhood worth remembering. It was the best of times, it was the worst of times. At sixteen years old her father was shot and it became a murder when he died a couple of days later. That memory never failed to bring tears to Regina's eyes, it would always be a raw wound, one that would never quite heal no matter how much time passed.
After that Regina's life was mottled with varying shades of grade, as she lived the strict and tedious life with her mother. (Until her first love Daniel came along, that is.) Cora never approved of any of Regina's suitors, wanting her to marry a wealthy and successful business man; Regina wanted love not power or wealth. She engaged Daniel in secret, planning to marry him as soon as she was eighteen and legally responsible for herself…but that would never come to pass. Daniel died in a car accident a month before they were to be wed, it was deemed a total accident, the other party never blamed but it sat with her wrong. She still secretly blamed her mother for Daniel's death.
Cora got her wish, at least for a little bit, when Regina married Leopald. A wealthy business man who's first wife had died of some mysterious illness, leaving his young daughter, Snow, motherless. Regina hated Leopald, utterly despised him and her life with him. Forced to live in the guest house and be Snow's mother. The only reason Regina did not leave him earlier was her soft spot for children, especially young Snow. The day Snow turned eighteen, Regina demanded a divorce. It was not a question, she was leaving Leopald with or without the divorce papers signed, she would be free.
Twenty-three years old, having been a punching bag for a man older than her father would have been and emotionally abused for six years, the drugs, alcohol and graffiti that had gotten Regina through those years now behind her. (Leopald had signed the papers easy, with Snow no longer needing a mother he had no use for Regina.) When Snow moved out to start her life it felt as if Regina, too, was just starting hers.
That was how she had gotten back to these parts of the city, where she had lived with her father in days past, the only true home she had ever known. Regina lived off of a bar tender's salary, her dreams of being a model long gone away from her. But that was five. Regina was twenty-eight years old and still running late for work.
"You're late," Emmanuel, the manager of Down the Rabbit Hole (the bar where she worked) informed her
"I know, I'm so sorry," She checked in and shot him her most apologetic look, flashing him a nice bit of her cleavage as well. His eyes never moved from her breasts as he let her off the hook, grumbling about next times that would never come. Thank God, Regina exhaled with relief. She had no extra money and if she lost her job she knew what would happen. She would lose everything, she would not be able to pay the bills, buy food, and then the social worker would return and take her son from her. Henry, the light of her life, a toddling little boy nearly eight years old.
She had adopted Henry when she was still technically married to Leopald, he had made living her lonely life more bearable and given her the strength to leave that awful man she had called her husband once upon a time ago.
The adoption agency had threatened her before about repossessing Henry and giving him to a better family if she did not improve the current living situation.
"You look like you could use a drink," a man's voice reached her ears, pulling her from her thoughts. (What was that accent, British? Regina wondered.)
Regina laughed and pinned her hair back, not turning to face him. "Isn't that just the irony of our world? The bar tender who could use a drink?" She began mixing drinks, not thinking as she continued to keep her back to him. "Take a picture of the paradigm," she teased playfully.
"I would but alas it seems I left my camera at home. Photographers don't generally show up at bars to take pictures," The man informed her as he studied his newly printed pictures. "I'm off duty right now. Just wanted to drink and ponder something."
"And what is that?" She raised her eyebrows, which he could not see, as she polished an empty wine glass.
"I'm looking for a girl- woman- who was in one of my photographs. I think I have one of her pictures accidentally, and the gentleman that I am, would like to return it to her, maybe ask her to drinks," Regina laughed. "Either works."
"I hope you find her, your 'mystery girl'," Regina said honestly as she poured herself a shot of whiskey. The man had been right after all, she did need a drink. Robin rose to his feet and left a hefty tip on the counter for the bar tender.
"Yea, me, too," He said as he wove his way through the crowded bar to the exit. Regina straightened up, facing him now as he disappeared in the crowd, disappointed she had never seen his face. (Wanting to know if British guy with the hot voice had a hot face to match.) Her heart sank with a feeling of loss, which she did not know what to make of, so she distracted herself with another shot of whiskey. Get a grip, she warned herself.
Robin pocketed all of his photos but one. He studied the girl in the photo, the same one who he had just been talking too. If only he had known that. All it would have taken was one glimpse of her beautiful face and he would have known, but that did not happen. He put away that picture, too, and opened his umbrella as he walked outside in to the pouring rain and the familiar smell of the New York Streets hit him. Wet dog, from the rain, and hot garbage, from the streets.
Where are you mystery girl? Robin glanced over his shoulder through the fogged up bar windows he could just barely make out the form of the bar tender he had spoke with. Regina tucked a loose hair behind her ear and bustled around behind the bar. Deep in her gut, or more accurately, her heart, something was awakening. The one thing she never thought she would find had just walked through the door and she could still see it. Etched into her mind as perfectly as her favorite song. (Read All About It Prt III by Emeli Sandi was her favorite song.)
If only she knew his name, she would have at least known something, but Regina always tried to find meaning in things and maybe it was better this way.