Untitled Homeless Anon / Sunset story

>Be Anonymous.
>Boy, you fucked up big.
>Lost your job.
>Lost your apartment.
>No friends in this town.
>You fled your home town in terror from the angry mob that set your 'Falafel and Body Waxing' salon on fire.

>All you have is your suit and your wits.
>Well, what's left of your suit.
>Lookin' a little raggedy there, sport.
>And a cardboard sign you made out of the bottom of a box and a sharpie marker you lifted from a QuickEMart
>Can't go in there again, can ya?
>Who knew those little persian guys were such excellent shots?

>Spend most of the day sitting with your back against the wall, staring people right in the calves.
>You had a coffee cup to collect change in, but some hulking brute took that last week.
>You smell like the men's room in a subway station.
>You look like the men's room in a subway station shoved into an increasingly tatty suit.

"... spare change?"
>Shit, son, you can't even afford capital letters anymore.

"... spare change?"
>"Get a job, creep!"
"... and to your wonderful family as well."
>At least you still remember to keep the smartass rejoiners down since that... incident with the squeegee.

"... spare change?"
>You are hit right in the eye by a dime.
>Asshole.
>You now have one dime, a black eye and no depth perception.

"... spare change?"
>"... Anon?"
>ohshit
>You're on your feet and three yards away when she says your name again.
>... she?
>You turn just a little.
>You wouldn't forget that hairstyle if they put you shock therapy.
"... sunny?

>There she is.
>Big as life and just as freakin' beautiful.
>"Anonymous... is that you?"

"mrmlbmjfnf,,"
>Smooth, Jackson.
>Try that again.
".... hi."

>Still wears those gogo boots she wore in high school.
>Well, why mess with a classic?
>You can't really see much else because you're staring down at her shoes.

>"Anonymous... I didn't know you'd moved to town? The last I heard you had a startup...?"
>Unspoken question: What went wrong?

"mmnfnfnn...didn't work out.."
>Unspoken answer: I am a massive fuckup. Please take me out of the game.

>The boots shuffle a little. You might guess the Sunset they're attached to is feeling uncomfortable.
>"Have you been... out... *here*... all this time?"

"...had a couple nights in the shelter... couple nights in a mission... and a fun filled three weeks in county for vagrancy..."

>She laughs
>Of course she's laughing.
>You're fuckin' laughable, aren't ya?

>"Hey..."
>You feel someone touch your shoulder and for the first time in months it isn't to push you away or try to bend you over something.
>"Eyes up here, Non."

>Non. When's the last time *anybody* called you that?
>Hell, when's the last time a female said 'Eyes up here" to you and didn't have pepper spray in hand?
>You heroically struggle to stop staring at the ground.
>EYE CONTACT ACHIEVEMENT UNLOCKED.

>Wow.
>Yeah she's only improved since high school.

>"Non... you look like hell."

"...well you look... freakin' amazing. still. always."
>Time to run away, isn't it? Before a cop tasers you for assaulting an attractive person.
"look... i gotta... go... thing..."

>You turn to go.
>You can't go.
>She has your shoulder.
>Dang she has a grip.

>"I'm in town for a week. The hotel I'm staying in put me in a double queen room. And my work is paying for it."

>You try and come up with a response.
>All of them try to get out at once and you make a sound like you're choking on your own choad.
>Smooth as always, dickhead.

>"The correct answer, Non, is 'yes.'

>You blink a few times.

>"Come on, Non. I know you can make that word. Yuh-eee-ess."
"... okay."
>"That wasn't the word I was trying for, but I'll accept it."

>You follow Sunset at a respectable distance for a few blocks
>She stops, grabs your ratty old suit coat arm and drags you up to walk next to her.
>You walk a little more upright.
>Even try to finger-comb your hair, although that's kind of a pointless exercise.
>County likes to shave 'em down during intake.

>"Buzz cut, Non? That's so not like you."

"... didn't have much choice. they let me keep my ears, though..."

>She laughs at that. She laughed at... a lot of the stuff you said, back then.
>Wonder what happened.
>Oh yeah. She found a guy, went to college, moved away, was happy.
>Wonder what that's like...
>... not finding a guy. No.
>Any initial research into that area turned up a big NOPE NOPE NOPE.
>ESPECIALLY after County.

>Damn she is staying at a fancy hotel.
>The doorman - yeah, doorman - is about halfway to "is this man bothering you, ma'am?" when she waves him off .
>She guides you to the elevator and doesn't say a word until the door closes.

>"... Non? I'd give you a big hug but right now you smell awful."
"yeah... sorry."
>"So, first you fix that. Then we'll hug."

>Anonymous, this is your brain. Message begins:
>WAT
>Repeat
>WAT
>Over.

>While you're sorting that out, she guides you (nice carpet, this place) to her hotel room.
>Damn. Someone's making a killing on business travellers.
>She aims you at the bathroom and hands you a big plastic bag.
>"Your clothing - in there. Shoes too. I'll see if any of it's salvageable."
>You're left holding the bag (HA) when she turns to pick up the room phone.

>"Concierge? Hiii, this is Ms. Shimmer in 1434..."
>... Ms?
>"Yes... a friend of mine... his luggage got lost and I was wondering if you could send up some shaving cream, a razor... and a couple pair of boxer shorts..."

>She looks up, sees you still standing there holding a plastic bag and a confused expression.
>She makes "shooing" gestures toward the bathroom.

>"Size medium.. yes... an a couple of t-shirts. Yes you can charge those to the room. *Thank* you *so* much... just a couple more things... "
>She looks up at you and mouths "GO" rather... forcefully.

>You go into the bathroom, close the door, and strip.
>Your suit practically stands on its own.
>You put it into the bag. It resists.
>You're certain you hear bits of it break off.
>In your pockets: that dime, a losing lottery ticket, and a couple of mints you got from... somewhere.
>The dime goes on the counter, the rest goes in the garbage.
>You go in the shower.

>Hot water, soap, shampoo, and no risk of anal violation.
>It's like religion in there.
>There is even a freaking loofa.
>You could develop a deep, meaningful relationship with this bathroom.

>There's a knock.
"... berberlbblbbl...."
>Do not answer door while facing shower.
"... yeah?"
>"I'm hanging a robe on the hook in here. Please make sure you're wearing it when you come out?"
"... kay."
>You go back to communing with the gods of hot water and suds.

>Eventually the shower wins.
>You can simply not be any cleaner.
>You swear you lost three pounds in there.
>Hey look - fingernails! Those sumbitches are like... not black!
>You dry yourself off. A lot. Towels. Oh god.
>You wonder if you can marry a hotel bathroom.
>You wrap yourself in the bathrobe equivalent of orgasm and open the door, letting all that steam escape.

>"Hey you're alive!"
>Sunny's sitting at the little table next to the little minibar, with a glass of something amber colored and ice cubes.
"... thank you, sunny... i feel..."
>"You *look* human, too."

"... yay me?"

>Sunny nods and points at the minibar.
>You open it up and can hear the money escaping.
>You look over at her.
>"Orange juice. And ... get both of the expensive chocolate bars. I'm having one."
>Her wish... your command... or something clever like that.

>Chocolate and orange juice. Nice.
>When *was* the last time you ate?

"so... yeah... how did..."
>While you get outside of your first meal in ... a while... Sunny gives you what's obviously a ruthlessly edited version of What Happened After High School.
>Highlights:
>High School Sweetheart
>Together through college
>She got a BA
>He got a BS
>They got married.
>They got jobs.
>She settled down happily
>He didn't.
>She caught him with two... no three different girls in rapid order.
>Divorce.
>New job. New town.
>Doing all right.
>Jesus Christ, Anonymous, what happened to you?

>You feel the corner of your mouth twitch up.
>You kill the rest of the OJ and make a significant look toward the rest of the mini bottle of scotch.
>She pushes it over to you.
>You... remember that civilized people put that shit in a glass before they drink it.
>You put that shit in a glass.
>You drink it.
>SLOWLY.
>Difficulty level: Really fuckin' hard.

"let's start with..."
>You clear your throat. You can talk like a human. Really.
"Let's start with 'My name is Anonymous and I am a fuckup...."