Snippet #2584451

Sitting on a roof staring down at the street far below, David decided he was grateful for the lack of a fear of heights. The building wasn't as tall as some of the skyscrapers around, but it was high enough that if he dropped a small rock he probably would have trouble seeing where it landed. He was sitting on the ledge with his legs dangling off, hunched over with a mute expression on his face. He enjoyed the feeling of being high up, above everyone else. It made him feel like he was apart from all the problems down below and his life would pause for a moment.

A sudden gush of wind made his stomach clench; the feeling you get when you get slightly off balance on a cliff and have a brief flash of panic before realizing you won't really fall. David sat there for a little longer, watching cars and people below get on with their lives before he slipped back onto the gravel of the roof and headed for the door that lead to the stairs back down to the lobby. There was an elevator too, but there was probably a camera in there so he didn't use it. The building he was in wasn't exactly fancy though, and as far as he could tell the stairs were completely neglected. Everything was painted a white color that took on a brownish tint, and there was dirt and random rubble decorating the steps. He wasn't even sure what the place was used for, the lobby looked generic as hell and the people inside had been boring middle-class trash. Not to call the middle-class itself trash, but these were the trash of the middle-class. David was sure, whatever the business was, it was either a front for something illegal or going bankrupt. Either way no one had questioned him as he made his way to the stairwell, nor had anyone came after him during his full hour on the roof.

Now back outside he reached in his back pocket and pulled out pack of smokes, making an irritated sound when he realized there were only two left. He was the few people who never had a problem putting them down when he needed to but he liked the way it sort of calmed his nerves, and made him less irritated. He lit the cigarette and breathed in the toxic smoke, smiling a bit as he did. Something about the fact that he knew he was damaging his body actually made him comfortable instead of worried. He was in control as far as he was concerned, and as long as he was in control the damage didn't bother him. It was one of the weird things about him that he couldn't understand so he just chose not to.

He made his way back to the bar where most of them had began living. Finn was a great guy, he really was. Letting all of them have the basement to stay in was one of the kindest things he'd seen from anyone in New York as of yet, though I'm sure if too many costumers found out they wouldn't agree with his kindness. Not wanting to disturb said costumers, David finished his cigarette outside before heading inside through the back door. If you could call it a door. He had a dank little twin mattress pushed to the side with no blanket and an old coat as a pillow. Not exactly glamorous, but he preferred it to a stone floor. He collapsed on the mattress and ran his fingers through his hair, vaguely acknowledging that the basement smelled faintly of weed and there was guitar playing. Alex was probably smoking again and Kieran was here. David briefly wondered if he was alright before zoning out in a half-asleep state like he did most afternoons.