Waiting |One Shot|

[Justin Bieber One Shot]

Money. It's what keeps us alive and yes, money does bring happiness. Like when you're buying that diamant engagement ring for your girlfriend that you love so much.

No. It could always also be a positive thing. Like when you catch your friend glancing at your food, you ask them if they want some too and they answer with the holy 'no'.
But the negative side could be when she replys with a straight up 'no', as reply to the question: "Will you marry me?" Or as reply to the "Should we live together?" Or "Should we make a family?" Or
"Do you want me to stay?"

Memories. We've had these since the first day we were born. That second you ripped out of your mom's vagina is one. And all those nice days in primary school with your clique, calling girls over and watching their reaction as you stuck you pinkie finger through the front hole of your jeans and shouting "Look at my dick!".
Thinking that within that era those were the good days.

And those good days went on and on, until one day. One person. Sweet, beautiful person. You and her fell inlove. You would call it love at first sight, she would laugh about it. The days passed on and the love grew too. Or so you thought.
Because one winter evening, when the snow still hadn't arrived she sat you down and held your hand. You remember glancing at her finger, wishing that diamant ring was slid around it.

But fast enough your wish changed. You watched her speak words that made you frown and confused. Words telling you that in a few minutes you would never hear a word from her again. Instead you wished she never said that.

--

I pull my sleeping bag closer to my body. The plastic fabric seeming to be the only sound in this quiet street. It was cold; winter to be exact and every few minutes a seeming to be stressed buisness person would come passing by.

Sometimes but rarely people would walk around the corner, see me sitting here on the ground and immediately dig into wherever they keep their coins and hand me 50 pence or 1 pound.
But they don't understand: I'm not a broke, I'm just a broken-hearted man.

--

Across from the street where we first met and where I'm sitting at right now, is a donut place. Famous for their sugary taste and cheap price. Above that donut place, on the second floor, lives a man, Biker. A weird name I know, and I still refuse to believe that it is his real name. He just won't admit it.

Much like his name, he himself is weird too. In a good, generous type of way. Every other day he comes out of his shop, looks from left to right before crossing over the street and walking over to me. In his hand, he then hands me a hot, box with the logo of a bike on it. And when I open it, like always, 10 donuts waiting for me lay inside.

At the end of the day it always ends up with an empty box of donuts and earplugs in my ear. I always offer him to listen with me but he always rejects because he doesn't like my music taste.

Biker always makes the weirdest jokes that aren't even funny, but I laugh anyway. Maybe because I will feel arrogant if I don't or just because he is the only one that inspires me not to move and keep my hopes up that you will come back.

Cause' if one day you wake up and find that you're missing me, and you heart starts to wonder where on this earth I could be. Thinking maybe you'll come back here to the place that we'd first meet. And you'll see me waiting for you on the corner of the street.

--

A little girl with a high ponytail sticks her hand out to me, 50 pence between her finger and thumb. I sigh as I realise I have to do the usual when someone offers me money and reject it. But then I get an idea.
From now on I will tell people that I do need their money. Not because I'm a fraud. Nope, it's because I will be saving up for you. I do need their money. It's for your future ring.