Hearts Of Gold h.s

Chapter 2

E

This morning I woke up already dreading the day. Two classes and a four hour shift. That's all that separates me from being back in bed. Some days are truly harder than others when it comes to being productive, but today is just a day. It will just be a drag that I have to get through.

Living life in a fog isn't fun, but it's become my own normal.

I'm greeted by Niall already up and making coffee in the kitchen when I walk in. He looks like absolute death on this fine Friday morning.

"How long were you out? I didn't even hear you come in" I say to him. He winces slightly at the volume of my voice and turns fully to look at me.

"I think it was like three or something. I don't know, but I am never drinking again." I laugh at this because we both know it's not true. This time next week, he'll be saying the same thing.

Niall is really the only person I feel comfortable talking normally with. He makes me experience little ounces of normal everyday. I for sure don't talk about anything too deep or traumatic with him unless it is necessary, but he knows virtually everything about me.

We both have our coffee poured and sit at the small bar that overlooks the kitchen silently. I know I'll get a death stare if I try and talk to Niall right now, so I just choose to shut up and drink my coffee.

I look and see that it's ten in the morning already and realize that I have to be out the door in 15 minutes in order to get to class on time. I could not give a single shit what I look like when going to class, so I throw on some leggings, one of Niall's crewnecks that literally swallows my body and a pair of old beaten up running shoes. My sense of style or rather the lack of it shows heavily when I am going to school.

I also am not the biggest fan of school. Well, for the most part anyway. But who likes school all of the time? Nobody. New York is great and NYU is giving me some great opportunities, but as an art student, I don't want to be taking all of these bullshit gen-ed classes. Why was I required to take math and science classes as an art student? I really wish I knew.

I am not bad at school necessarily, I actually get decent grades and stuff.. I just really hate it. Finding the motivation to do anything other than art gets harder and harder as time goes on.

I sometimes even struggle with the art part.

I think people like my art because it tells a story. My story to be exact. I struggle to speak about the things I have gone through and had to witness, but I have learned to express what I am feeling through what I am drawing or painting. I use it as an escape from my own head. Getting everything from my head and out onto a canvas or a piece of paper is relaxing to me. Kinda like journaling, but with paint.

I quickly brush my teeth and hair, grab my bag and head out of the door. The subway station is only 3 blocks away, so it really isn't too bad of a walk.

One thing I hate more than leaving my apartment is getting on this subway. It is convenient for sure, but the crowd of people on it at all times is terrible. Much cheaper than trying to own a car in New York City though, so I make it work.

Classes are boring and drag on for two and a half hours, but I finally finish by 1:30 and start my journey to work. I don't have to actually be there until 3:00, but there is no point in going home. I work in a small hole in the wall kind of diner. Not something many tourists come to see, but we have our fair share of regulars and it pays the bills.

Money hasn't been too much of an issue for me lately due to the nice chunk of cash my mom left for me when she died. We were comfortable when I was growing up. Financially anyway. Emotionally, not so much. The diner is a place for me to work in order to feel independent and successful in some way. My moms money is something I use for school or when I am struggling a little. It took me a few years to even consider touching the money she left because of how affected I was by her death. I didn't want her money- I wanted my mom.