homeless, c

ENDLESS WORRIES

A fortunate day this had been for ted, what with his classes finishing early. As much as he enjoyed learning advanced mathematics he... well actually, he didn't enjoy it. At all.

Still, the class was behind him now and the student was currently strolling through the city coffee in hand while looking into occasional shop windows. So far though he had yet to spend any money - disregarding his coffee - and was beginning to feel slightly disappointed. The shops are really lacking today. I sure hope they get new shipments in soon or I'm just going to have to work out that whole 'e-shopping' deal, he thought with a small smile stretching his pale lips. Unlike a lot of other students his age, girls in particular, Ted had never gotten the hang of being online and was possibly the slowest at typing in his classes. His Facebook account still hasn't got a profile picture.

Just as the debate on whether to go home entered his mind, music entered his ears. Being the virtuoso he was, any sign of music got him interested. Following his ears as best he could - and getting himself lost after turning the wrong corner - Ted finally found the beautiful music's source. A boy, probably only a little older than the student, was currently stood playing a song unknown to Ted in such a precious way that he couldn't help but chuck in a few coins - if not for the music then only to help keep the five dollar note he also supplied from blowing away. "You've got real talent," he said, copying words that his teacher had spoken to both him and other students previously.

two hundred & eighty-seven

ENDLESS WORRIES

As the player continued the song only on guitar, Ted couldn't help the unconscious little sways his body made to the music. It was such a lovely song and also so original that the student found himself lost within the notes, watching as Frank's fingers danced upon the strings. In fact, Ted got so into the song that it took him a second to realise that the busker had actually spoken, and he had to blink his eyes from the guitar in order to stare back at Frank with a slightly sheepish smile. "Nah, I'm not a critic," he chuckled in return, waving off the silly statement before his hand returns to his jacket pocket.

The next question to come certainly baffled the boy, for he wasn't entirely sure what Frank could of meant. Still, he tried his best to muster up an answer that would possibly suit its question. "Just the fact that classes are over for the day and I can go home and practice my own music," he explained with a slight shrug before gesturing to Frank's guitar. "I can tell you now, I'm no where near as good at song writing as you are."

one hundred & ninety-eight

ENDLESS WORRIES

Frank was able to deduct - successfully - that Ted was a student seemingly by just looking at his coffee which by now had lost a lot of its warmth, but hey at least it was only a quarter full. A bob of the head indicated agreement from the music student as the guitar melody seemed to slow in pace and he continued to listen while the busker continued to speak of the creature that was critics. "That's true," he chuckled at the comment on critics, having seen one or two nasty pieces of work in some of his less successful auditions.

When a thanks that sounded full of gratitude came his way, Ted merely shrugged his shoulders in a 'no big deal' fashion. In the the young adult's mind politeness and good mannerisms should be common-place rather than something to use occasionally, and so being thanked for common decency came across as small for him. As the question of his name arose Ted had been finishing his coffee, and so took a second to swallow before giving a goofy smile. "The name's Ted, nice to meet you," he greeted, bobbing his head once more in a gesture towards the busker. "How 'bout yourself?"

two hundred & four