His Situation

And secret thoughts were said aloud
We watched the faces in the clouds
Until the clouds had blown away

I reach into my pocket for a cigarette as I step out the door onto the roof. Collins smokes in the loft, but he always makes me go outside for it because, apparently, one little incident with a curtain makes having me anywhere near open flame a 'fire hazard'. So I like to play with my lighter...

"Those things will kill you." My surprise causes me to gag on the smoke and cough harshly. "See?" I look in the direction of the voice to see the young film-maker, sitting on the floor (ceiling?) with his legs pulled to his body, arms resting on his knees.

"Mark, what the hell are you doing up here?" I fumble with the Marlboro pack and place it and my lighter back in my pocket, resisting the urge to see how long it takes the plastic wrapper to burn (somewhere between three and five seconds, according to previous experiments).

"Nothing...so, come here often?" he jokes, although his tone seems rather distant.

I do a quick mental tally before responding "About ten to fifteen times a day." I sit next to him, legs stretched out, leaning back and putting my weight on my right hand. "What's new, Marky?"

"Today is Father's Day." He absent-mindedly picks at a thread on his pants. "Every year I've gone to see a movie with my dad."

I shrug. "So take a bus out and go see him."

"I don't think he'd want me to. We haven't spoken to each other since I dropped out of Brown."

"You went to Brown?"

"Yeah, for a whole year," he remarks sarcastically. "That's how I know Benny. Didn't he tell you that?"

"No..." I feel so uninformed. I take another drag as I realize I still don't know anything about this kid.

"Well, I grew up in Scarsdale, so obviously like every other person, I was supposed to want to be just like my father. So my parents sent me to college as a business major. After a year, I couldn't stand it anymore so I dropped out and told them I wanted to make films. Dad told me not to come home. I called Benny because I didn't know who else to go to."

What do you say to something like that? I mean, I left for the city because I wanted to. He had no choice. He must be terrified here.

I put my arm around him protectively and say the most casual thing that comes to mind. "So, here I thought everyone who came out of Scarsdale was a fucking yuppy."

He smiles at me (for the first time today) proudly and says "I guess I'm the exception that proves the rule."

I get up and head toward the door, tossing my cigarette off the side of the building. "Hey, I just learned this new song. You wanna film me playing it?"

His eyes light up. "Yeah!" He tries to recover and hide his excitement, but it's a little too late. "Yeah, that'd be great."

"Well, come on, kid. I don't have all day."