Pity the Child ;Mike;

[Mike D. Greaser]

"Its probably better than mine."

Mike gave a small laugh. "I don't know... Mines pretty bad." He shook his head, amazed that they were arguing about whose room was messier. Either way, Mike knew his parents would laugh if they saw his place. That is one thing he really liked about his parents. They were so laid back. In fact, they would probably live here, just for the thrill of it. They were what you called eccentric. Mike loved them.

"Its a, uh lot harder living in New York then I thought."

Mike nodded. "It is. I'm from England, and coming here was a huge culture shock." England was very different from New York. They talked different, ate different, even dressed different. But to Mike, it was an adventure. Something different, a new place to concur. But he could understand where Adam was coming from. But Mike wondered where Adam had come from. "Where you from?" He asked.

"I understand that, I um, lost someone very close to me just recently."

Mike raised his eyebrows and turned to look at him. Who? When? What happened? This was the first time Mike had actually talk to a male about his parents death. This was the first time Mike had even talked about it. It was a hard thing, and Mike felt his heart drop. It was like hearing the news all over again. Mike always knew it had happened, but he never wanted to deal with it. Now, talking about it, felt like it was all happening again. "If you don't mind me asking, who?"

"Its just really hard for me. I bet you're taking it better than I am."

Mike chuckled and rubbed the back of his neck. If you call being in denial and seeking revenge on a bunch of newsies handling it well. "Oh, yeah. Maybe..."

[Adam Trumper]

"I don't know... Mines pretty bad."

Adam laughed, "I'll take your word for it." He said, thus ending the argument over who's house was messier. He actually missed his mother's nagging to clean up his room, and put away his clothes. But she was gone now, along with the rest of his family. They were probably having a wonderful life without him.

"It is. I'm from England, and coming here was a huge culture shock. Where you from?"

He thought that Mike was from England, probably because of his accent. "I'm from Chicago." He said, "Its pretty similar to New York, both are big cities. But I...get lonely sometimes." He admitted. He didn't want to admit that he was really lonely and needed someone to talk to. Thankfully he found Mike, and hopefully they could become friends.

"If you don't mind me asking, who?"

Adam bit his lip, telling himself that he wouldn't cry. He couldn't cry in front of Mike, or in front of anyone. He just had to deal with the pain himself, he only had himself now. "My girlfriend." He said, trying not to let his voice crack from his struggle of holding back his cries. "We were really close." He said. Rose was his first love, and you could never forget that person. He would never forget her, it would be hard to. He could still remember the night he met her as well as he could remember this morning.

"Oh, yeah. Maybe..."

"No, I bet you are." He said with a small smile. Anyone would probably handle the situation he was going through better than Adam.

[Mike D. Greaser]

"I'm from Chicago." He said, "Its pretty similar to New York, both are big cities. But I...get lonely sometimes."

Mike looked at him with sad eyes, completely understanding. Sometimes Mike found himself doubtful of what he was doing, simply because he had hardly any friends. And the friends he did have were selfish and conniving. They weren't true friends. They were just friends with Mike to get what they needed. Lonelyness definitely described Mike. "I completely understand. Sometimes I wander if what I'm doing is even the right thing." Mike sighed and closed his eyes. He couldn't doubt, not now; not ever. Mike was the bad guy, and he loved being the bad guy. He couldn't stop now.

"My girlfriend. We were really close."

Mike's breath caught in his throat. A girlfriend? That must be hard. And it wasn't just any girl, Mike could tell. Adam had said they were close, but even if he hadn't said that, Mike would have been able to tell. Adam was having difficulty holding in his emotions. "I'm sorry to hear that," he said, unable to think of anything else to say.

"No, I bet you are."

Mike returned his smile with a sympathetic one. "I really am sorry to hear that." Mike suddenly thought of the one girl that had caught his attention. He imagined how he would feel if she was gone. He couldn't imagine it.

{Sorry, that was bad.)

[Adam Trumper]

"I completely understand. Sometimes I wander if what I'm doing is even the right thing."

Adam nodded, he knew he was doing the right thing, but it just felt so..hard. He knew he was doing the right thing by starting over, trying to forget his past. But it was just too hard to forget. Everywhere he turned there was some sort of reminder there, like a girl that looked like Rose, a dealer, just little things that reminded him of his horrible experience.

"I'm sorry to hear that,"

He bit his lip, surprised it wasn't falling off from how many times he bit it. He tried to hold in his emotions, but it was hard. It was just too hard. "I loved her...and she had to do that to herself." He said, immediately cursing himself in his head. He shouldn't of gone that far to tell Mike what happened. It was her fault anyway, she shouldn't of gotten hooked, but it was near impossible for Adam to blame her.

"I really am sorry to hear that."

He nodded, "Its okay...I'll live." He said, pulling his legs up underneath him. He wished he could allow himself to love again, but he didn't want to risk anything. Plus he didn't think he was mentally stable to handle it. He was barely stable enough to continue living.

[Mike D. Greaser]

"I loved her...and she had to do that to herself."

Mike, who had been glancing around the room, snapped his gaze to Adam. Had he heard right? She committed suicide? "What happened?!" Mike found himself asking, before he could stop it. But he wanted to know. Adam needed to talk about it. Mike could tell that Adam didn't talk about this sort of stuff much, which was fine by him, but he really wanted to know. It was like letting a child lick the end of a chocolate bar, but not letting them have any more than that. Mike wanted more than Adam was offering. He couldn't just say something like that than clam up! Mike squirmed in his seat.

Its okay...I'll live."

Mike smiled and nodded. "Most people live through deaths. But that doesn't mean it is easy..." Mike mused. That was for bloody sure. Deaths were one of the hardest things one had to deal with. Especially parents. And yet, Mike had killed a total of three people in his life time. Why didn't he feel any guilt? Mike was cold, and dead. Dead to the world and dead to the feelings of guilt.



{Bleh. Short}

[Adam Trumper]

"What happened?!"

Adam took a deep, yet shaky breath. He hoped he didn't break down and start crying, how humiliating would that be? He decided that Mike would be a safe person to confide in, someone who wouldn't judge him like the rest of the world would. "Two years ago I was still in Chicago." He began, fiddling with his hands. "I was in the same situation I was now; a street performer trying to make a living. Well, I had a lot of people who loved what I did, they loved my music. Some even loved me, especially the girls that were sixteen or seventeen. Anyways, there was this one girl who caught my eye, her name was Rose. She was amazing, she was beautiful and everytime you would look at her it took your breath away." He said with a smile, remembering his and Rose's first meeting.

He pushed back some of his hair that was getting into his eyes and continued. "We talked for a little bit, and she would come to my shows. Things happened, and she moved in with me. That's when I realized she had a bad habit, she had a drug addiction. She tried to get me into it, and I said no the first few times. Then she told me it would help me with my music, so I said okay. She got me hooked onto everything she was on. Morphine, opium, cocaine, we did everything. Even some stuff I had no idea I was putting into myself." He shivered, thinking of the horrible days of waking up and not remembering what happened the night before.

"We continued living like that for two years, until six months ago she gave me money to buy some more." He said, feeling the tears coming to his eyes. He tried to hold them back, "When I came back she was dead. She overdosed." He bit his lip, and glanced over at Mike. "I spent a few weeks going through withdrawl, and then I came here for a new life." He said, quietly.

It felt like almost a release, telling someone his story. Adam never confided in anyone, and it hurt having to revisit what he went through. Hopefully Mike didn't get up and storm out, saying he didn't want to be friends with such a screwed up person.

"Most people live through deaths. But that doesn't mean it is easy..."

"Ain't that the truth." Adam mumbled, stretching out his legs to put them on the coffee table in front of him. He was still trying to get over Rose and her death day by day. It was one of the hardest things he had ever done, the other being drug withdrawl.

[Mike D. Greaser]

"Two years ago I was still in Chicago. I was in the same situation I was now; a street performer trying to make a living. Well, I had a lot of people who loved what I did, they loved my music. Some even loved me, especially the girls that were sixteen or seventeen. Anyways, there was this one girl who caught my eye, her name was Rose. She was amazing, she was beautiful and everytime you would look at her it took your breath away."

Mike smiled at his wishful look. He loved the girl he called Rose, Mike could tell. He loved her and he obviously still did. Mike felt a twinge of doubt as Adam continued. This story didn't seem like a happy one.

"We talked for a little bit, and she would come to my shows. Things happened, and she moved in with me. That's when I realized she had a bad habit, she had a drug addiction. She tried to get me into it, and I said no the first few times. Then she told me it would help me with my music, so I said okay. She got me hooked onto everything she was on. Morphine, opium, cocaine, we did everything. Even some stuff I had no idea I was putting into myself."

Mike winced. He had never been one for drugs, and that was the reason why. Drugs are like alcohol. They are good and give you a small relief, but they are terrible for you. Mike wasn't much of a drinker, he did it every so often; but he would never do drugs. Mike knew how harmful that was to your body. Mike knew better. He kept his mouth shut, not wanting to offend Adam.

"We continued living like that for two years, until six months ago she gave me money to buy some more. When I came back she was dead. She overdosed. I spent a few weeks going through withdrawl, and then I came here for a new life.

Mike sighed and leaned back. How do you reply to that? "My parents were murdered," Mike blurted out, not sure how else to reply. How could one reply to someone pouring out their heart? He'd already said sorry and figured Adam didn't want his sympathy. He was probably used to that and didn't want anymore of it. Mike silently wondered about his parents or Rose's parents. Was no one there to console him?

"Ain'tthat the truth."

Mike chuckled and placed his feet upon the coffee table as well. At least Adam was laid back and didn't mind people invading his space and his house. Mike realized Adam was one of the only people he had ever talked to like this. He found it comforting and enjoyed his company.

[Adam Trumper]

"My parents were murdered,"

Adam blinked, it was sort of out of the blue. Well, not really. He had just poured his heart out, and talked about his past. Now it was Mike's turn to do so. Adam couldn't imagine having his parents be murdered. Even though he had lost contact with them, he still loved them. He regretted his decision of saying how grown up he was, moving out, and almost destroying his life.

"I'm sorry to hear that," He began to say. Should he continue and ask Mike what else happened? Adam just poured out his heart, why couldn't Mike do the same? Maybe he wasn't as...emotional as Adam was. Even though he rarely showed his emotions, when he was in despair he couldn't help it. "If you don't mind if I ask, what happened?" There. He asked, if Mike got mad at him, Adam could just kick him out. It was his house after all.

Well, no that's mean. He couldn't just kick Mike out, politely ask to leave. There. That's better. It sounded much nicer, more like the real Adam. He was a truly nice guy, you had to really get to know him, like Rose. Ever since her, he probably would never find love again. Why bother? It was a waste, she died, end of story. Why waste his time on something that couldn't turn into the love him and Rose had. Nothing would ever replace her, the only thing that did was drugs.

For Adam, it was too late to screw up his life again just because he missed the love of his life. So he would just have to live with the fact that Rose was gone forever, no matter how hard it was.