The Road to Anywhere
Jason shoves everything he needs into a knapsack. An extra pair of pants, an extra pair of socks, and an extra shirt (these are the only clothes he has anyway). Then, Jason takes the only picture of him and Tim together and puts it at the top (that way, it won’t get crumpled or ruined).
He takes one last look at the dump that had been their apartment (more like a fucking hovel) and leaves. It’s not like anyone else lives in this building anyway. (But all there stuff is still here.) He checks his back pocket, making sure he has his wallet is there (because he will need that money, even if he can’t afford a passenger train ticket).
New York City is ugly and crowded. And, yeah, if he were one of the industrial moguls, he’d be eager to kick people out of their homes to make more room for more factories for more people to work in. But he isn’t, so he still has the right to be fucking pissed because. Because-
“Jason!” Not even a brush of fingers. Nothing. Gone.
Well. Jason isn’t going to be putting up with that nonsense. He is going to find Tim if it is the last thing he does. (So what if he’s poor? He can work wherever, as long as Tim is there.)
He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and counts the bills. Twenty, thirty, fifty… Fifty-five. This won’t get him a train ticket and food. Besides, he doesn’t even know where Tim is going to end up (though he thinks he heard someone say Philadelphia?).
He heads back towards the train station. He can hitch a ride in a boxcar.
He can do this.
“What the fuck is someone as talented as you doing in this dive?”
“Well, it’s not like I’m picky about where I play. And I’m not that good.
“And I am heir to the Rockefeller fortune.”
“…wow. I didn’t know rich people like you even came to places like this.”
“Tell me you didn’t just believe me.”
(And he’d blushed and Jason had laughed. He had offered to buy Tim a drink. He’d asked for soda.)
Jason crawls into the boxcar of one of the trains, lined up at the station. White coal-smoke billows into the sky, indicative of the impending departure of the train (which is why Jason had chosen this one). A part of him that sounds like his now-dead mother says This is ridiculous, Jason, you don’t even know where Tim is going to end up.
Jason doesn’t fucking care. Because it doesn’t matter. Jason will go to every single city in this goddamned country if he has to.
The train jerks into motion.
I will find you.
He takes one last look at the dump that had been their apartment (more like a fucking hovel) and leaves. It’s not like anyone else lives in this building anyway. (But all there stuff is still here.) He checks his back pocket, making sure he has his wallet is there (because he will need that money, even if he can’t afford a passenger train ticket).
New York City is ugly and crowded. And, yeah, if he were one of the industrial moguls, he’d be eager to kick people out of their homes to make more room for more factories for more people to work in. But he isn’t, so he still has the right to be fucking pissed because. Because-
“Jason!” Not even a brush of fingers. Nothing. Gone.
Well. Jason isn’t going to be putting up with that nonsense. He is going to find Tim if it is the last thing he does. (So what if he’s poor? He can work wherever, as long as Tim is there.)
He pulls his wallet out of his back pocket and counts the bills. Twenty, thirty, fifty… Fifty-five. This won’t get him a train ticket and food. Besides, he doesn’t even know where Tim is going to end up (though he thinks he heard someone say Philadelphia?).
He heads back towards the train station. He can hitch a ride in a boxcar.
He can do this.
“What the fuck is someone as talented as you doing in this dive?”
“Well, it’s not like I’m picky about where I play. And I’m not that good.
“And I am heir to the Rockefeller fortune.”
“…wow. I didn’t know rich people like you even came to places like this.”
“Tell me you didn’t just believe me.”
(And he’d blushed and Jason had laughed. He had offered to buy Tim a drink. He’d asked for soda.)
Jason crawls into the boxcar of one of the trains, lined up at the station. White coal-smoke billows into the sky, indicative of the impending departure of the train (which is why Jason had chosen this one). A part of him that sounds like his now-dead mother says This is ridiculous, Jason, you don’t even know where Tim is going to end up.
Jason doesn’t fucking care. Because it doesn’t matter. Jason will go to every single city in this goddamned country if he has to.
The train jerks into motion.
I will find you.