In Hell 2, Matt in Boston. Matt's thoughts and feelings. No, nobody's happy in this storyline. Deal with it.
*****
It's raining and the tear in my coat lets in enough water that I feel completely soaked but I can't work up the interest to lift my leg further up into the dorrway.
Beside me an elderly lady attempts to pan change off the passing crowds. When they thin she turns and talks to me. I manage to grunt or nod at appropriate places. Amazing, since I'm so fucked up.
I feel like my various body parts should all be sinking into the ground, seeping through like the rain.
I don't think I've eaten in three days, but my stomach learned which of us was boss years ago and doesn't do much more than a half-hearted rumble. I turned a few tricks a while ago, have a bit of money left, enough for an order of fries at Mc Donalds, maybe a burger, too, but going to buy it would mean getting up and, well, that's just not happening. Sorry, stomach.
Heh. I'm talking to my stomach. That's a bad sign, ne?
One of my feet half-hangs off the edge of the step and I watch the rain collect and fall of the toe of my boot. There's a crack in the side that I need to fix with more tape, but right now I care about that about as much as I care about my soaked jeans, which is not at all.
I had so many dreams, once. I was Ishida Yamato, Matt Ishida. I was going to become a rock star, change the world. What a fucking laugh riot. I should have stayed in Odaiba. At least there I wouldn't be sharing a doorstep with an ancient insane bag lady. I wouldn't be hungry, or fucked up and I wouldn't be worrying that maybe the last guy who fucked me had The Big One, maybe my last trick gave me something that would kill me or turn me into a fucking Typhoid Mary. I wouldn't have a habit to feed and I wouldn't be killing myself.
But I'd also have to watch Tai and Sora like their life of wedded bliss. I found it all out a while ago, and anything which might have made me want to go back went to hell.
When I told Tai I was gay, he freaked. He fucking FREAKED. He refused to touch me, to talk to me, to go near me. He acted like I had the fucking plague. Good thing I never told him I was in love with him, ne? He's have probably killed me.
As it was, I'm certain it was his friends who kicked the shit out of me that night. I'm pretty certain he was there. That's part of the reason I left. I couldn't stay there any more if they all...if HE hated me.
And I prefer begging in Boston to living in Odaiba. Less dangerous.
Shit. I am so fucked up.
And I'm fucking SOAKED.
I don't care.
I just don't fucking care anymore.
And never again.
*****
Next up, we check in with Daisuke and Ken. *Evil grin* They aren't doing well, either.
*****
It's raining and the tear in my coat lets in enough water that I feel completely soaked but I can't work up the interest to lift my leg further up into the dorrway.
Beside me an elderly lady attempts to pan change off the passing crowds. When they thin she turns and talks to me. I manage to grunt or nod at appropriate places. Amazing, since I'm so fucked up.
I feel like my various body parts should all be sinking into the ground, seeping through like the rain.
I don't think I've eaten in three days, but my stomach learned which of us was boss years ago and doesn't do much more than a half-hearted rumble. I turned a few tricks a while ago, have a bit of money left, enough for an order of fries at Mc Donalds, maybe a burger, too, but going to buy it would mean getting up and, well, that's just not happening. Sorry, stomach.
Heh. I'm talking to my stomach. That's a bad sign, ne?
One of my feet half-hangs off the edge of the step and I watch the rain collect and fall of the toe of my boot. There's a crack in the side that I need to fix with more tape, but right now I care about that about as much as I care about my soaked jeans, which is not at all.
I had so many dreams, once. I was Ishida Yamato, Matt Ishida. I was going to become a rock star, change the world. What a fucking laugh riot. I should have stayed in Odaiba. At least there I wouldn't be sharing a doorstep with an ancient insane bag lady. I wouldn't be hungry, or fucked up and I wouldn't be worrying that maybe the last guy who fucked me had The Big One, maybe my last trick gave me something that would kill me or turn me into a fucking Typhoid Mary. I wouldn't have a habit to feed and I wouldn't be killing myself.
But I'd also have to watch Tai and Sora like their life of wedded bliss. I found it all out a while ago, and anything which might have made me want to go back went to hell.
When I told Tai I was gay, he freaked. He fucking FREAKED. He refused to touch me, to talk to me, to go near me. He acted like I had the fucking plague. Good thing I never told him I was in love with him, ne? He's have probably killed me.
As it was, I'm certain it was his friends who kicked the shit out of me that night. I'm pretty certain he was there. That's part of the reason I left. I couldn't stay there any more if they all...if HE hated me.
And I prefer begging in Boston to living in Odaiba. Less dangerous.
Shit. I am so fucked up.
And I'm fucking SOAKED.
I don't care.
I just don't fucking care anymore.
And never again.
*****
Next up, we check in with Daisuke and Ken. *Evil grin* They aren't doing well, either.