Curt stood, picked up his jacket. Arthur's mind was buzzing. Freedom. The freedom he could allow himself was standing two feet away from him. He could snatch it up now, or let it float away like he had for everything else. All or nothing.
"Do you want to stay for another drink?" The words poured from his lips before he could rethink his decision. Curt looked around the dingy place and shook his head.
"Nah," He said. Arthur nodded and took a sip of his beer. "This place is a dive. Fucking oppressive, man. Come on, I could take you to the best place in New York. We could walk, it isn't too far away. Good booze and good music." He said, glancing at the jukebox in the corner with a tired snort as he shrugged on his jacket. Arthur glanced up to see the girl who he had given his press pass to earlier squealing to her friends and excitedly waving her arms about – he could empathize.
"Alright," Arthur said, pulling on his own jacket. He followed the bleach blonde out into the unforgiving cold and walked beside him, enjoying the comfortable silence. Curt lit up a cigarette, offered Arthur one. He took it.
It was odd - he was freezing, and his eyes were narrowed against the chill of the strong wind … but for the first time in his life, he felt as though he wasn't walking against it.
End.