Snippet #2716764

The whole earth had been swallowed fully.

Well, Xabier felt it, so it had to be true. There were so many uncertainties in the world, yet one thing felt absolutely certain - that a person could be in one of the highest populated places on Earth, and yet feel so utterly alone.

All around him were the shadows of millions of bodies passing him by.

It was quite hot out. 30 degrees? 35? He couldn't tell. The sweat had started to form on his forehead.

His phone started to ring in his pocket. He had bought a cheap disposable, drug dealer mobile as soon as he knew he was going to the U.S.
There was no point of spending a fortune on phone bills as he had planned to be going home after a few weeks along with - well, it didn't really matter now, did it?

He plopped himself onto a bench. A couple of French tourists got up, disgruntled by his appearance.

He could hear them talking about him as they stood up.

He hadn't studied French at 17 for nothing.

The younger of the two girls were giggling, a reaction he was used to, but the elder girl didn't seem impressed.

He must look exactly how he felt.

(Like shit.)

Looking at the caller id, he pondered picking up.

Maybe she was calling to apologise. To tell him that she loved him after all.

….

He let it ring out.

The silence afterwards made him desperately want to redial the number.

And yet still, this empty, lonely feeling, sitting alone on a bench in Central Park, was ten times better than being anywhere near her right now.

"Il a l'air d'être ivre….. Mais si tu pense qu'il est mignon, demands lui son numéro."*

"Ah non~ Je suis trop nerveuse.."

He sighed aloud. "J'en ai ral le cul."

"Tu me gonfles, dégage!"

The one who had made eyes at him looking shocked and then hurt. She had wide eyes and was decent looking. His mate Paolo would've been all over her. He felt suddenly ashamed.
He was acting like a total d***head.

The shame didn't last too long when he felt a splash hit him.

The older girl had emptied the contents of her water bottle over his head. The plastic bottle hitting his feet.

"Va te faire foutre, connard!" She spat, grabbing her friend/sister and walking away.

He thought three things:

1. At least he had cooled down a little. Blessing in disguise.
2. She had thrown her bottle at him so technically she was the bad person in this situation.
3. He had proved to himself why he had to be alone.

He really needed a drink.

He heard a deep chuckle beside him. Some hobo had plopped down on the ground beside the bench.

"Tough luck, hombre. They may look it, but chicks aren't that easy nowadays."

Xabier just looked at him, biting back his tongue.

"I dunno man, for me it seems like the opposite." He said, switching into Spanish.

The man just kept laughing and then took a swig out of his flask. Xabier got off the bench and sat with him.

"If you scrubbed up a little, you might get some… or maybe not…" The homeless man looked him up and down. "Me, however, I get ALL the ladies. Here have a drink, you look like you need one."

Xabier accepted the drink, fully aware that he might catch some disease or get aids or something. Still, he hadn't drunk in what seemed like months.

It took several more swigs until he had started just completely revealing his story to this homeless man.

---------------------------------------------------------------

"Sometimes absence makes people forget what's important, she'll come around."

Xabier just stared at the lake, his hands gripping his phone.

Afterwards, the homeless man started to tell him his own story. His name was Miguel and he had been screwed over when his wife got ill and he went into deep debt paying for her medication. It turned out that since the crash, he had lost all of his savings and ended up on the streets after his wife died and the banks took his house.

Listening to him made Xabier sober up immediately.
As dreadful as he had been feeling, Miguel's story had made him feel less pathetic by a little.

"I am sorry, man." He took another swig and passed the nearly empty container back to Miguel.

Miguel took it off of him and a soft smile graced his face and for one short moment, he saw the person behind the dirty clothes and dishevelled appearance.

"At least I'm good with the ladies, my man."

They both laughed at this and Xabier took out some sandwiches from his bag.
They were all mushed and warm, but neither of them was exactly in the place to complain. Miguel ate both of them while Xabier drank the remnants of the booze.



Across the way, he could see a girl hanging by her leg in a tree...

Okay, he was a little drunk, and it didn't help that he had gone to a pub before arriving in Central Park.

He was tempted to go over to help her, but he saw some chick feeding a ton of cats right near her.

Disgusting, he thought, there was no way in hell that he was going over to fight those cats for some random person.

That cat lady could help her. Or that blonde chick on her phone.

He was somehow still brimming with anger, but it had simmered down a little. The booze had settled him down. He didn't need it, but he liked it.

All was good…. Well, as good as it could be with some chick recording him and Miguel.

...tan hermosa! So, no more walking for us but check these two out, I guess they're comfy there?"

"Qué chingados!" Miguel spat.

Xabier recognised her in the dim of his hazy mind. That chick was famous with the girls back home. Most girls followed her (and the likes of her) on their social media and tried to be like her.

He was going to ignore her when he remembered something.

Val might be watching… and he was drunk...

The thought spiked his brain with steroids.

"OY! Stop recording us!" His anger had flared up again, getting up and walking straight towards her.

He had to stop her recording him.




*translated as following;

Girl 1: "He looks like a drunk, but if you think he is cute, ask for his number."
Girl 2: "Ah no, I'm too nervous."
Xabier: "I'm so f***ing fed up. You are pissing me off, get lost!"
Girl 1 throws drink at him.
Girl 1: "Go f*** yourself, asshole"

Pardon the french lol