H A R R Y

A FLASH OF blue was the first thing my eyes glimpsed and I frowned at the sinking feeling of hopelessness it punched back through my lungs. The back of someone's head was blue hair, long and wavy. But someone else was coming towards me, rounding the blue-haired woman, a polite smile on her face.

That wasn't Luella.

Blue disappeared and with her disappeared my stupid hope. My fucking stupid hope of finding the only girl I've ever known how to love.

Of course she's not here. Why would she be here at all? I don't know if I'm glad she's not or fucking crushed. I'd built up so much with her that it's proven to be so hard to knock what we've built down.

My broken world picks its pieces back up and breaks all over again.

L U E L L A

"Live a little!" Cindy whines next to me, rolling her vibrant blue eyes at me.

A bunch of men in business suits just strolled into the bar we worked at and Cindy was trying to persuade me to go talk to one of them.

"Why don't you go talk to them?" I rolled my eyes at her.

"I do live vicariously through you, though," she winked at me, her eyebrows dancing with enthusiasm. She blew her blonde hair out of her face before she raised a challenging eyebrow at me.

"You know how Alex is," I stated. "He'll go apeshit on me. I really don't have the energy for it tonight."

"Do you see Alex anywhere now?" Cindy was saying, but her line of vision strayed to a point behind my shoulder. She smirked then looked back at me devilishly.

"You have that look on your face again, Cin," I pointed a warning finger in her face, which she slapped away. "Seriously, it freaks me out!"

"You have a customer," she tried to say quietly, but in evident excitement. "Back to work!"

I shook my head at her as she disappeared behind the bar. I turned around, only to find a guy sitting on one of the stools, face in his hands. Having been a bartender for over a year now, I know a stressed drinker when I see one. He had brown hair, shiny under the neon lights of Wanderlust and the slouched shoulders of exhaustion. And of course, he was wearing a suit.

I sighed and put on my work smile as I walked over to him before I said, "Hey, handsome."

The man's movements of rubbing his eyes stops and he momentarily freezes. I think I heard him suck in a harsh breath, and I take a step back. If he's a crazy one, I'm not dealing with him. I turn around, wondering why he hadn't looked up yet, why 'hey, handsome' has frozen him into a statue.

Luckily enough, Cindy was coming back out to serve with me. I tilted my head towards the guy, shaking my head. She sighed and reverted her gaze to smile at-I'm assuming-the distressed guy behind me, brushing past me to get to him.

I took this chance to escape the thuds of music and chatter of drunks. I still had an annoying hangover headache from yesterday and wasn't in a mood to deal with mopey drunks. Sighing, I unbuttoned the first few buttons of my shirt, acknowledging the hot and sweaty atmosphere of the pub, as I rounded the counter and stepped outside.

Coincidentally, my phone buzzed with a ding of a new text. I slid it out of my jeans' back pocket to find it's from Alex. A smile curved my lips as I read over the words.

Alex:
i miss your face

I replied to him with something sassy about us last being together just a few hours ago. Alex was like that, he'd say he misses me and he can't wait to see me, but he'd never actually call me his.

He made that clear, though. He made it very clear to everyone else, he didn't fancy the idea of putting a label on us. And mutually, it was a relief for me. It doesn't seem long ago since my heart was broken into a million pieces by the only boy I've ever known how to love.

But Alex was picking them all up, one by one.

15 MONTHS AGO

My teeth shattered as I tested the running shower water. It was ice cold and didn't look too far from a nasty yellow tint color. Having been waiting for it to warm up for a while, I muttered under my breath as I slowly slipped under the shower head, freezing cold water wetting my greasy hair, sliding the sweat off my skin slowly and painfully, along with my bottled-up tears from all day.

It has been over two months. Two fucking months and I'm still sat at the same shitty motel room with cold water and a broken bed. After I'd decided to leave everything behind, I collected all the cash and money I had, all the clothes I have got for myself, and took the first train to London. I really couldn't think of another place. I didn't even know any place at all, and the first train at the station leaving was to London, so I took a leap if faith and hopped on it.

With the little money I had, I'd paid for a room in the cheapest motel I could find, on the outskirts of London. I've been paying for a single night every damn night, hoping next day I wouldn't have to. Hoping next day, I would have a job and a consistent paycheck to afford at the most a bearable place to stay, a bed that doesn't cry and creak and a shower with a little less frozen water.

Two months. Two months, and the job never came. Neither did the bed, nor the shower. I figured I'd do anything, anything just to help me live. I had no other place to go, no other way I could survive. I just had to find a job. But who wanted a certificate-less eighteen-year-old orphan with no sort of reliance or a stable residence? The only thing I had was a Lancaster University certificate to mark completion of intensive courses to help me get into Lancaster University. Which turned out to be useless anywhere else.

I tried to stop my sobs that have turned into silent tears over the past couple of months. I washed myself up, taking my time as I became numb to the icy feeling of the water slipping over my skinny, fragile figure, settling into the dips where my bones bruise outwards. After I'd dressed into heavy clothes to prevent a cold, I stopped in front of the dirty, cracked mirror in the room.

I almost started rolling tears down my cheeks again as I took in my frail, weak body. I could almost touch the structured bones of my cheeks and my shoulders. My white pale face stared back at me, eyes lacking of light whatsoever they almost looked like a dusty teal color instead of its usual light, lively baby blue. I've barely been eating recently, and if I did, it would be a meal a day. A meal, as in a bagel or some candy from somewhere cheap. I neither had the stomach nor the money to eat at all, like, actually eat something fulfilling.

The last few coins I had I spent yesterday on a candy bar to survive on, waiting for a miracle to happen. I hadn't even paid for the last few nights I stayed at the motel and I was a wreck. I was broke, hungry, desperate and broken. I was done for.

A harsh, loud knocking sounded at the door, making me jump back with wide eyes. A woman's voice spoke, "Open up!"

Realizing the owner of the voice, I gulped nervously. The knocking continued, the lady still muttering from behind the wooden door. Before she could break the door down, I hurried and opened it for Ronda.

Ronda was the owner of the motel. She was usually nice to me, because I'd been staying at her motel for a long time. But right now, she looked like she could have my head.

"I'm sorry, munchkin, but you gotta go." She folded her chubby arms over her chest, smacking her gum in her mouth with attitude.

I widened my eyes at her. "What? Come on, Ronda, I w-"

"It's been five days!" She shook her head, her round dangling earrings shaking along. "You're consuming my water and my electricity and you're not paying for either of those things!"

"I know, I'm so sorry! I'll pay you back, I just- I have nowhere else to go and I... Just, please-,"

Ronda kept shaking her head, not having it. "I don't care, girl. We've all got crap we gotta deal with. I'm sorry, kid. By tomorrow morning, if I don't have my money, you're outta here. Got it?"

I blinked away the tears that had almost slipped. I bit my lip harshly to distract the pain, nodding, unable to find my voice. Ronda sighed in exasperation and turned around, her slippers sounding across the padded wooden floor. Closing the door behind her, I let it all dawn on me.

And I broke down, again.

I didn't have a place to stay. I didn't have a job. I didn't have any money. I didn't have anything.

And I realized, this is the real scenario. The one that would've happened back in Lancaster had it not been for people helping me every step of the way. Real, raw and absolutely unedited. I am nothing. I am nobody. I am just dead meat at this point.

That night, I couldn't close my eyelids. I didn't try to put myself to sleep. It kept me up, that realization. I'd curled up on the floor-it was good as the bed, really-and I waited for the sun to creep up awakened from behind the horizon again. For the sun to prove to me, again, how much of a failure I'd been the day before. How I'm still breathing for another day to roll by me and crush me at sunset, when the sun is still letting me hate myself in the darkness and the moon cries with me.

It was pretty much dawn when I left. I didn't want to face the humiliation if I ever saw Ronda again. I dragged my bag behind me as I lifelessly gazed at the streets, the people, the buildings, the animals. The streets got busier by the minute, morning joggers turned into people rushing to work turned into kids returning home from school and so on.

But I remained the same, turning into even more of the nothingness that I was.

Eventually, my legs got tired and my back hurt, I was basically dragging my body along the pavements of the streets with no purpose. It had also struck me that it was September and even though I couldn't keep track of the days, I had a shuddering moment remembering my birthday. I cried more, and some people looked at me funny, though I didn't really care.

So, I took a break from walking. I sat down at an alley, next to some garbage cans, and brought my knees up to my chest, resting my forehead on them. Everything hurt, but at the same time, I felt completely numb. Though, that didn't stop the tears from coming.

"Hey," A male voice had said, startling me. I looked over to its source and blinked a couple of times as I took him in.

There was a guy standing ten feet away from me, a cigarette in his fingers. He looked like he'd been there before I even turned into the alleyway and I, even now, felt uncomfortable that he'd seen me sniffle and cry pathetically.

Not knowing what to do, I kept staring at him as he took careful, casual steps towards me, letting me notice his soft stubble and the hat he wore backwards. Piercings and tattoos littered his body. He looked about my age, maybe a couple of years older.

Surprisingly, he offered me his cigarette, presumably comfortable enough to slide down the brick wall to sit beside me.

"I don't smoke," I croaked out, looking away and thinking of taking my bag and getting out of there already.

The guy shrugged and placed it back between his lips, taking a drag then puffing it out slowly. "So, why are you here?"

I furrowed my eyebrows at him, causing him to chuckle for some reason.

"I meant, what is a pretty girl like you doing crying in a dark alleyway in the middle of the day?" He said. His words baffled me in surprise. I would've laughed if I had it in me.

"I look like shit," I deadpanned, scoffing and looking away. I don't even know why I'm still sitting here. He looked like he could carry a gun, but I can't carry myself anymore.

The guy laughed. "So what are you, a runaway or something?"

I contemplated over it for a bit. A runaway. "Something like that."

"What's your name?" He asked, striking grey eyes narrowed in pure curiosity. I stayed silent, thinking of a reason why I should tell him my name. After a minute, he chuckled and said, "Well, if you're having a good think about it, are you really going to tell me your real name?"

I watched him smile dazzlingly at me and I smiled back, shaking my head as if I was distracted. A runaway. A new name.

"It's Faith," I said. "My name's Faith."

••
note:
so... luella is 'faith' and has blue hair.
tbh that was very emotional. i had a hard time writing this chapter obviously.
i know it's a little confusing right now. but it gets clearer as the chapters go on, i promise.
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love, n. xx