It was a typical autumn morning: the smell of coffee was in the air, the trees were turning a crisp shade of brown, and occasionally dropped their leaves onto the walkway as people walked by, and the sky was clear.
Dimitri, however, was not paying much attention to autumn playing out in front of him. Instead he was running as fast as he could, his hair still a mess from when he had woken up in the shelter’s bed, his eyes tired after a night of practically no sleep in fear the man underneath him would have stolen the few possessions he had left. City life had proved itself to be rough, and after leaving home only a year or so ago he still had nothing to call his own, or a form of sustainable income to keep paying the rent. The flat he had bought with the little money he had taken with him was now repossessed by his landlord after 6 months of nothing except a couple of dollar bills every so often- not nearly enough to pay back his debt. Now he had to work as many shifts as he could at wherever he could find just to afford food, and in the evenings he queued for hours at a time to find a space in a homeless shelter. If he was late he was forced to sleep rough, but he had been lucky and only had to resort to that once or twice in the last month.
Now he was late for the start of his new job- finally he had gotten himself a break: working early hours of the morning at a small bar cleaning. He would have fancied himself behind the bar in all honesty, but he would have to deal with wiping sick away for now. Once that was done he had to get back to the café, his only regular job through the whole of this, where he worked from 11- 2 serving hot drinks and sandwiches to teens, before finally having a couple of hours to ask around for Odette- it had only been 15 months since he had last saw her, and he was still being optimistic. He had a photo, and a brief description, and essentially all the time in the world. He was sure sooner than later he would bump into her, regardless of how many thousands of people he would have to sift through in this city to do so.
He had been cleaning the floor, focusing on washing away a rather persistent stain in hopes of earning a little bit extra, when the two men came storming into the bar. They seemed to know the owner, their voices loud and brash. They pulled up two stools, completely disregarding Dimitri as he continued to clean. Instead they ordered their drinks and one of the guys started boasting, a little too proudly, of his night.
‘Taught Jess a thing or two yesterday’, he said with a smirk. ‘Lets just say she’s got a permanent reminder not to talk to me like that anymore.’
His voice boomed across the room. Dimitri clenched the broom, trying not to imagine Korso saying it. Instead he focused on the floor, but as the guy kept speaking he couldn’t hold it in.
‘What the hell is your problem?’ he said boldly, turning around. But he soon regretted this when the 30-something guy stood up, out shadowing 19-yr old Dimitri. The broom in Dimitri’s hand did not stay in one piece for very long, and in a couple of minutes neither did the bar, which Dimitri was pushed into.
Eventually the bar owner came to see what all the commotion was, seeing Dimitri try to punch a regular customer. In a matter of moments, Dimitri was kicked to the curb, with the job placement gone too.
He picked up his bag, checking his wallet was still there and employee tag for the café. Slowly he stood up, dusting off the dirt from his clothes. He was used to this sort of treatment by now- it was what his life had become, and this was just another ordinary day.
