Chapter 2
Someone like you
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with friends, as much as the kills me to admit, its true.
~*~
Christmas Eve 1993
"We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year."
Phoebe stood amongst the crowd outside of Macy's watching the carol singers' chant the familiar songs that she loved listening to every Christmas Eve.
It had become her routine over the last 3 years. She would stand outside of Macy's for hours on end, freezing cold, but happy. Then she would take the short walk through Times Square, back to her alley, doing a little begging along the way. If she was lucky she would make enough money to get herself a bite to eat and a takeaway coffee, that she would make last for days. Cold coffee had become her saviour. And tonight was no different.
As the singing came to an end and the crowds dispersed from the shop doorway Phoebe stood for a moment longer, watching the families inside buying last minute gifts. The sadness yanked at her heart, like tiny hands squeezing every last bit of happiness out of her. If only I had money, she thought to herself. The hurt was grasping tighter at her with every pessimistic thought. She decided to drag herself away, before the pain made her lose the last bit of rational thought she clung onto desperately.
The bright lights of the huge billboards in Times Square always brought a smile to her face. It reminded her simpler times, when she had family and friends around her. It made her feel safe and protected.
She walked slowly across the road, daydreaming as she swung her arms backwards and forwards in a childlike manner. She felt her feet crunch into the crisp snow underneath her as she came closer to her "home".
Suddenly a huge weight knocked into her front, sending her flying a few feet on the sidewalk. She lay on her back, the wet snow soaking her body as she tried unsuccessfully to pull herself back up onto her feet.
"Are you ok?" A man in his late 30's reached down and picked her up from the pool of slush she was still lying in.
Phoebe was still in too much shock to answer. It had all happened to quickly.
"You look like you need a good feed! Maybe you wouldn't have flew so far when I bumped into you if you a little weight on you to hold you down." The man laughed hysterically at his own sad attempt at a joke.
Phoebe stood inches from his face awkwardly playing with her blonde matted hair. She hated being made fun of because of her situation
"I'm Tony," The man looked down at her, waiting on a response, but Phoebe just continued to stare, taking in his every feature.
He was at least 7 inches taller than she was and extremely well built with it. She noted how he wouldn't have looked out of place as a bodyguard, with his huge frame, smart clothes and thick Brooklyn accent.
Her feelings of intimidation remained as she stood next to him, shadowed. Next to him she looked even more emaciated than she already was.
Regaining the power of speech she knew would be the perfect time to beg.
"I would be grateful if you could spare a couple of dollars sir." Phoebe looked up at him sweet and innocent, grateful that he had been kind enough to notice her neediness, even although he had laughed at her.
She continued to watch him as he dug deep into his trousers pocket and pulled out a $10 bill. Her eyes widened and bulged at the sight of it. In her three years on the streets no one had offered her anything more than 10 cents, let alone 10 bucks.
Seeing her gawping induced another fit of annoying out of place laughter. "You can pay me back later," his speech muffled as he continued to chuckle, leaning in closer to her.
She extended her hand to take the note, ignoring his earlier comment, she really wanted that money and wasn't about to go analysing his statement. Just as she felt the tips of her fingers brush the paper he abruptly withdrew his hand, and the note, making her jump in fright as he did so.
"Tell me," he said sharply. "How do I know you're not going to go and spend this money on alcohol, or drugs even?"
Phoebe removed her gaze from his hand and looked into his eyes, her own watering slightly.
"I'm 16. No shopkeeper in this city, in their right mind would sell me anything other than orange juice. And as for drugs, I've never touched them and I never intend to. I've seen what the do to people." Her eyes flashed with hurt at his brash judgment of her. Just because she lived on the streets didn't mean she was some Meth swilling, coke snorting freak.
Tony moved his face down, millimetres from hers, sneering strangely. "I don't know if I should believe you?" He placed his large hands heavily on her shoulders making her feel jittery.
"How about instead of giving you this, I take you to a little place I know. That way I know how my money is being spent."
Phoebe shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the weight of his hands, which were now digging painfully into her. Feeling her squirming he removed them and regained a vertical posture. The menacing look vanished from his face with his new stance.
Phoebe rubbed herself in a vain attempt to rid the throbbing pain. "I don't know. I mean, I don't know you from Adam. I probably shouldn't." She looked at him embarrassed at having to reject him, and a little scared at the same time. She didn't know what he was capable of. No one was close by the secluded street and the last thing she wanted to do was anger him.
"Awww, sweetie, im not gonna hurt you. I just want to make sure you have a nice meal on Christmas Eve." He looked at her with puppy dog eyes and extended his hands out towards her arms, rubbing them as though he was trying to heat her up.
Phoebe was still wary of him, but the idea of a nice meal was too tempting. The last real meal she ever had was the day she left home, when her Mom had made Sunday lunch for her and her sister.
Her mouth salivated at the thought of a huge roast dinner in front of her, all the trimmings, and money being no object.
"Ok," she said, somewhat unsurely.
"Great, you've made the right decision," Tony smirked and led her off to the café where he took all his "girls". Cheap and cheerful. "Nothing but the best for my girls," He laughed inwardly. He had managed to coax another one. This one was easier than usual. Street girls were always easier to talk around, and Phoebe had been no different. She was his now, and she would do what he said. There was no turning back now.
Someone like you
Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with friends, as much as the kills me to admit, its true.
~*~
Christmas Eve 1993
"We wish you a merry Christmas and a happy new year."
Phoebe stood amongst the crowd outside of Macy's watching the carol singers' chant the familiar songs that she loved listening to every Christmas Eve.
It had become her routine over the last 3 years. She would stand outside of Macy's for hours on end, freezing cold, but happy. Then she would take the short walk through Times Square, back to her alley, doing a little begging along the way. If she was lucky she would make enough money to get herself a bite to eat and a takeaway coffee, that she would make last for days. Cold coffee had become her saviour. And tonight was no different.
As the singing came to an end and the crowds dispersed from the shop doorway Phoebe stood for a moment longer, watching the families inside buying last minute gifts. The sadness yanked at her heart, like tiny hands squeezing every last bit of happiness out of her. If only I had money, she thought to herself. The hurt was grasping tighter at her with every pessimistic thought. She decided to drag herself away, before the pain made her lose the last bit of rational thought she clung onto desperately.
The bright lights of the huge billboards in Times Square always brought a smile to her face. It reminded her simpler times, when she had family and friends around her. It made her feel safe and protected.
She walked slowly across the road, daydreaming as she swung her arms backwards and forwards in a childlike manner. She felt her feet crunch into the crisp snow underneath her as she came closer to her "home".
Suddenly a huge weight knocked into her front, sending her flying a few feet on the sidewalk. She lay on her back, the wet snow soaking her body as she tried unsuccessfully to pull herself back up onto her feet.
"Are you ok?" A man in his late 30's reached down and picked her up from the pool of slush she was still lying in.
Phoebe was still in too much shock to answer. It had all happened to quickly.
"You look like you need a good feed! Maybe you wouldn't have flew so far when I bumped into you if you a little weight on you to hold you down." The man laughed hysterically at his own sad attempt at a joke.
Phoebe stood inches from his face awkwardly playing with her blonde matted hair. She hated being made fun of because of her situation
"I'm Tony," The man looked down at her, waiting on a response, but Phoebe just continued to stare, taking in his every feature.
He was at least 7 inches taller than she was and extremely well built with it. She noted how he wouldn't have looked out of place as a bodyguard, with his huge frame, smart clothes and thick Brooklyn accent.
Her feelings of intimidation remained as she stood next to him, shadowed. Next to him she looked even more emaciated than she already was.
Regaining the power of speech she knew would be the perfect time to beg.
"I would be grateful if you could spare a couple of dollars sir." Phoebe looked up at him sweet and innocent, grateful that he had been kind enough to notice her neediness, even although he had laughed at her.
She continued to watch him as he dug deep into his trousers pocket and pulled out a $10 bill. Her eyes widened and bulged at the sight of it. In her three years on the streets no one had offered her anything more than 10 cents, let alone 10 bucks.
Seeing her gawping induced another fit of annoying out of place laughter. "You can pay me back later," his speech muffled as he continued to chuckle, leaning in closer to her.
She extended her hand to take the note, ignoring his earlier comment, she really wanted that money and wasn't about to go analysing his statement. Just as she felt the tips of her fingers brush the paper he abruptly withdrew his hand, and the note, making her jump in fright as he did so.
"Tell me," he said sharply. "How do I know you're not going to go and spend this money on alcohol, or drugs even?"
Phoebe removed her gaze from his hand and looked into his eyes, her own watering slightly.
"I'm 16. No shopkeeper in this city, in their right mind would sell me anything other than orange juice. And as for drugs, I've never touched them and I never intend to. I've seen what the do to people." Her eyes flashed with hurt at his brash judgment of her. Just because she lived on the streets didn't mean she was some Meth swilling, coke snorting freak.
Tony moved his face down, millimetres from hers, sneering strangely. "I don't know if I should believe you?" He placed his large hands heavily on her shoulders making her feel jittery.
"How about instead of giving you this, I take you to a little place I know. That way I know how my money is being spent."
Phoebe shifted uncomfortably, trying to ease the weight of his hands, which were now digging painfully into her. Feeling her squirming he removed them and regained a vertical posture. The menacing look vanished from his face with his new stance.
Phoebe rubbed herself in a vain attempt to rid the throbbing pain. "I don't know. I mean, I don't know you from Adam. I probably shouldn't." She looked at him embarrassed at having to reject him, and a little scared at the same time. She didn't know what he was capable of. No one was close by the secluded street and the last thing she wanted to do was anger him.
"Awww, sweetie, im not gonna hurt you. I just want to make sure you have a nice meal on Christmas Eve." He looked at her with puppy dog eyes and extended his hands out towards her arms, rubbing them as though he was trying to heat her up.
Phoebe was still wary of him, but the idea of a nice meal was too tempting. The last real meal she ever had was the day she left home, when her Mom had made Sunday lunch for her and her sister.
Her mouth salivated at the thought of a huge roast dinner in front of her, all the trimmings, and money being no object.
"Ok," she said, somewhat unsurely.
"Great, you've made the right decision," Tony smirked and led her off to the café where he took all his "girls". Cheap and cheerful. "Nothing but the best for my girls," He laughed inwardly. He had managed to coax another one. This one was easier than usual. Street girls were always easier to talk around, and Phoebe had been no different. She was his now, and she would do what he said. There was no turning back now.