People didn't do this in real life. It wasn't a thing. And yet there they were, two dirt covered children walking down the street looking to all the world like the uptight businessman. Or woman. Or child. Y'know. If they looked close enough, which wasn't actually close at all.
It was Race's idea. He still wasn't really sure what they were running from, so hiding from "them" was going to be that much more difficult. There was a tattered trench coat a bit further up the alley.
He'd taken a walk down Broadway street, years ago now, and at the time there must have been some sort of celebration going on. Outside one of the theatre's were people on stilts, towering above the crowd - they must have been 10 feet high! It was as if a circus tent had been stuffed inside the grand building and try as they might it couldn't be contained. It was a carnival of colour, and it had Race thinking.
They could use that trench coat. Lucy could sit on his shoulders with her hair tucked in his cap, then he'd get her to wrap the trench coat around them and no one would be the wiser! Or they'd think they were going insane, either way they'd leave the two alone.
So out the alley they went; Lucy hunched-over sat on Race's shoulders, whispering which way to go and trying to avoid meeting people's gaze. It was strange really. The change of perspective. From where she sat she could see just above the heads of crowds. She could see the grand architecture, flags and smoke. Through the road gap in the skyline she could see blue. The brightest blue she'd ever seen. It was clean and it was vibrant. She wanted to drink it up then rest on the clouds.
"Pssst. Hey! Mousey, hey! Where we going?"
She gently patted the top of Race's head, letting him know to keep going forward. They didn't have far to go, but they weren't going to risk walking quickly and bumping into someone. If Lucy came tumbling down it would all be for nought.
Lucy had never been up so high. New York was always so crowded, it was a challenge to see anything when you were only three foot off the ground. Or was it more than that now? When had she last been measured?
It had been back when her family were still alive, when school was her biggest worry. Her eldest sister had taught her all about the bow code, and which teachers to watch out for, but Lucy was a worrier by nature. When her mother tied up her plaits with ribbons she fretted for hours that people would read into the innocent bows and make awful presumptions about her.
"Lucy? Lucy Clarke?"
Lucy didn't know David Jacobs especially well. She saw the Jacobs brothers around the school, and Les was only a year above her so on occasion they'd sat close to each other during assemblies. Her elder sister, Jean, had told her a bit about David. She'd said his deep brown eyes could make a person melt, that he was the handsomest boy in class. Lucy had suspected her sister was exaggerating her crush at the time, but somehow the confirmation of her dramatised storytelling wasn't any comfort.
If anything it made her miss Jean's flamboyant nature fiercer than ever.
She was plumb in the lap of another world, everything she should have been was staring in abject rejection at the alien mess she had become. David took a step closer, slowly taking off his hat in a frustrating mix of stunned-false politeness. Race gripped her ankles a little tighter, grounding her as much as a person can be grounded five foot off the ground.
"Hi-hi Dave, um, David."
The stretch of her vocal chords was a rubber band SNAP and the slingshot volley of words were gone. Stuttering and stupid and hers. They were hers. The only thing in the world left to her. The only thing no one could take. She poured ash on the embers of her voice.
These words were hers. This voice was hers. And it didn't really matter how it sounded, it didn't really matter how anyone took it, it was never theirs to take away to begin with.
So please don't murder me for every late upload... but if you're reading this you made it! Not a terribly long journey, but it was my first story so this has been a trial in its own way and I am so grateful to you for reading.
This story is really for anyone who ever has, or ever does, feel afraid to talk. Speaking to people can be absolutely terrifying. You're not alone in that. The thing I've come to learn though is that being true to yourself, saying the things you wanna say with confidence, you'll find yourself in the company of like minded people rather than surrounded by the people you think you want to be. If you are true to yourself then the rest of your flock will find you. That person that called you boring? Wrong. Incorrect. You're brilliant! If you weren't a passionate person, you wouldn't be reading fanfic. Let me tell you, being passionate is wonderful. The people who disagree are just people. You can't win 'em all. But you have got this. Believe in yourself.
Oh also, sidenote. I purposefully have not alluded to which accent Lucy used when she spoke. That is entirely up to you. What choice do you think she made in the end?