"Hey ya, Delacy." Jagger said, as he came up beside me. His breath smelled faintly of alcohol. He reached up and tousled his very dark brown hair. "Aren't you happy to see me?"
"Usually, when you're not being a pain." I reached up with a hand and flattened out his hair again as he stared at me. His light blue eyes were bright and dazzling, a smile in them.

He wore ripped jeans and a dark brown jacket, sporting light stubble which only contributed to his handsome bad-boy look. He had the kind of face that drew you helplessly in, despite the voice inside your head warning you that you'd only get hurt. I was sure quite a few women have swooned and fallen at his feet, and though I found him good-looking, I was simply not one of those girls.

"Likewise, my friend." He gave me a small smile as we headed off down the road.
"So, have you found any potential jobs today?"
I saw him flinch out of the periphery of my eye. He rubbed the back of his neck nervously. I pretended I didn't notice, but inside I knew what was coming.

Jagger had lived with his parents for the past few years after being evicted from his apartment, and was now being kicked out of his parents. It wasn't very good that he was with me on the streets the majority of the time and not finding new accomodations. He also had a job, which he had recently been fired from. He was living on the money he already had and the money from his last couple paychecks for him to live off of while he found another job to work at. But it was quite clear where all his money was actually going.
"Well... not a good one anyway."

"Does that actually mean: One that you're too lazy to commit to? Or that you just didn't really try to find one at all?"

"It's hard on me right now! Cut me some slack! I'm not going to commit to something that I don't like!"

"Now that right there is why you can't hold a job. If it doesn't come in the form of some kind of alcohol, you don't like it."

"I can't believe you had the nerve to say that." He stopped walking. I stopped too and spun around to face him. I couldn't keep the agitation from my voice.

"Am I wrong? No. And you want to know what upsets me the most? The fact that you have a chance to pick up those tiny, miserable pieces of your life and still make something out of it! So what if you hate your job? Get one and work your way up from there! If you're on the streets for the rest of your life, then what? You won't have enough money to drink your life away, that's for sure. So you need to start sucking it up." I said. He turned, blank faced, walking backward as he spoke. With every word his eyes blazed brighter with fire.

"Don't tell me what to do with my life when you have freely chosen to live yours homeless. You could have done more with your life."

"Well, at least I had a good reason! Wait—Where are you going?" I asked wilding as I watched him stalk off.

"I'm going to go waste my miserable life getting drunk, like usual. Cuz that's the only thing I know how to do after all!"

"Oh, knock it off. You're acting like such a baby!"

"Yeah well, this baby is leaving. Bye!"

If I didn't have my hands full with my things, I would've face-palmed myself. I waved him off with the hand that held my sleeping bag. We had arguments like these often since we'd met a little over a month ago.

"Whatever, I'll see you later!" I called out with a sigh, watching him walk away for a few more seconds before I turned away too. I'd find something to do to pass the time. Today I decided to sit on the curbs of streets and panhandle. I did this every so often, though I didn't like to be seen among the public. I kept the money I made in order to buy supplies to help me during the winter or food for when I traveled between towns. I wasn't always so lucky that I had a friend like Tiffany who was kind enough to feed me a second meal during the day, but usually I did. And I knew someday my luck would run out.

After getting less than $10 in over five hours, I decided to call it quits and trudged back to the alley. Most days I would stay out a little later, so usually I would get back to whatever spot we decided to meet after he was already there. And by that time, he was usually passed out drunk or so out of it that he could barely create coherent words. But today I decided I would sit and wait for Jagger to return.

As I sat there, on the ground of the alley, I thought of how I would need to find somewhere else for Jagger and I to sleep. An alley was somewhere too dangerous for us to be in and it was hard on me every night when I had to watch for cops. We usually couldn't get into shelters, but with colder weather coming, we had to try. Or I would have to try, if Jagger managed by some miracle to get a house and job.

I sighed. Thinking about him made my heart feel heavy within my chest. I had to be hard on Jagger or he would be glued in a life probably worse than mine--I didn't want that. But maybe I had gone just a bit too far. Whatever happened now, it was all on me.

At the sound of shuffling footsteps I raised my head. I didn't realize how much I actually cared until I saw him.

"Jagger," I breathed, bolting to my feet. I rushed up beside him, supporting him to the wall of the alley as he drunkenly staggered and swerved. I didn't think he could fully comprehend what it was that I was saying but I tried anyway, "I'm sorry for earlier, I came out unnecessarily impolite. I'm really worried about you, that's all."

"Sorry?" he giggled. He turned to me a grin across his face, his face an inch from mine. His breath, like usual, smelled of alcohol. But tonight's in particular was thicker and stronger than usual.

He reached out and grasped my wrist with a strong hand. I sensed immediately that something was off and tried to loosen his grip on me.

"Why don't you care?" his words were slurred. He smiled and pointed at me like he figured something out.

"What?" I asked shocked. I was still trying to pry his fingers off when he slammed me against the wall, hitting my head against the stone. I took a couple shaky, deep breaths and tried to swallow down the panic and fear as my head swam with pain. "Please... let go of me, Jagger."

"Don't hide it."

"I'm not hiding anything, Jagger. You're not yourself, please—" He chuckled and hiccuped at the same time. He shook his head at me and brought his face closer to mine. Too close.
"You're a liar."

My cool exterior shattered and I struggled to push him away with one hand. My attempts were futile, he only leaned his head down closer to mine. He was going to kiss me. I couldn't let him kiss me. "Stop it! Let me go right now! Jagger, let me go!"

He pressed his lips to mine, but only for a brief moment. With a tiny burst of adrenaline, I raised a fist and connected it to the side of his face. My head ached from the sudden movement, as weak as it was. Jagger was only shocked, almost as if he didn't know what had happened.

"You bitch!" He wildly swung his arm and punched me in the face. My head collided with the stone wall again and I slid down, crumpling to the ground. Colors and spots that weren't normal filled my vision. I heard footsteps running up and then Jagger yell something. Despite the pain, I looked up, and through the blurriness that was my sight, I faintly saw someone violently throw their fist into the side of Jaggers face. The blow, mixed with his intoxication, caused him to stagger backwards and fall. I let out a gasp and the man turned to me.

"Are you okay?" The man looked at me and I gave a short nod, or at least I think I did. I couldn't tell because the world was teetering. He hurriedly picked up my bags and slung them over his shoulders, and handed me my rolled up sleeping bag and a paper bag. "Try to hold onto these. I'm going to get you out of here. You ready?" I didn't ask him where, I could barely speak. My head throbbed and something warm was oozing down the bottom of my face.

I felt myself start to move, strong arms wrap around me, and I dug my fingers into the things in my lap. He started to slowly walk away, the weight of everything he was carrying almost too much for him. He stepped onto the street and I winced at the sudden light from the street lamps. I was just barely able to glimpse the face of my rescuer before I closed them again. It was the man that I had been seeing so much.

"Come back!" I heard Jagger cry out, but he was too drunk that he'd never catch us. I shut my eyes, trying my best to block him out. I placed all my trust in this man who held me in his arms. Letting him be my eyes and my guide through the streets to wherever our destination might be.

"No... hospitals..." I mumbled as I fainted.