Chapter 22

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On a warm afternoon in Central Park, a twelve year old Rose, wearing a t-shirt and shorts, is playing an acoustic guitar for the tourists. The skinny preteen doesn't pay any attention to the world around her, as she smiles and sings the ending of 'Friend Like Me' from Aladdin.

So don'tcha sit there slack-jawed, buggy-eyed~
I'm here to answer all your midday prayers~
You got me bona fide, certified~
You got a genie for your chargé d'affaires~
I got a powerful urge to help you out~
So what-cha wish?~
I really want to know~
You got a list that's three miles long, no doubt~
Well, all you gotta do is rub like so - and oh~
Mister Aladdin, sir, have a wish or two or three~
I'm on the job, you big nabob~
You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend~
You ain't never had a friend, never had a friend~
You ain't never had a friend like me~

She happily laughs, and plays the last chords before she sings out the last line.

You ain't never had a friend like me, hah!~

She hits the final chord, and chuckles before she snaps out of it to the sound of applause from her small audience. She awkwardly bows to the crowd of five, as they drop tips in the open guitar case in front of her. When she lifts her torso, her smile quickly fades when she sees a cop coming towards her.

"Oh crap!" She curses under her breath, as she scrambles to pack up the guitar after the tourists left, but it was too late to run when the cop reaches her.

The muscular blond police officer, in his twenties, raises an eyebrow at the child he found playing. "Weren't you the kid I let off with a warning in Time Square last week?"

Rose widens her eyes at the cop, to see that he is the guy that ruined her performance last week. She scowls at the tall man, as she picks up the side handle of her school's thick guitar case. "That was you?! Why do you keep showing up when I play?! Are you a stalker or something?!"

The cop widens his dark brown eyes at the accusation. "I'm not a stalker, you brat! You keep playing when I'm on patrol! Wait, that's not the point! I told you that you can't street perform without a per-!"

He stops himself when he gets a closer look at the short, skinny, kid and notices a slightly dark bruise on her left cheek, along with a few on her arms and legs. He scowls at the marks, and starts to grow suspicious of the kid. "Where did you get those bruises?"

She tenses at the mention of the bruises, that she received from her foster dad, before she mirrors his stern facial expression. "You ask a lot of questions for a stranger! You really are a stalker!"

"No I'm not, you-!" He stops himself from saying anything rash, and takes a deep breath to calm down. 

When he calms down, he gives her a small smile, brings out his badge, and tries for the good cop approach. "Hey, why don't we start over? My name's Robert, as you can see I'm a police officer, and NOT a stalker. So what's your name?"

She chuckles at the forced introduction, as she plays along by extending a hand out for him to shake. "My name's Rose, nice to meet you Bobby."

Robert does his best to keep his smile on, while his right eyebrow twitches from the nickname, as he shakes her hand. "It's nice to meet you too. So, what happened to cause those bruises?"

"I fought an asshole." Rose says bluntly, with the policeman dropping his jaw at the swearing.

"Don't go cursing like that! Who did you fight with to get those bruises?!"

Rose chuckles at the question, with a cheeky smile. "Sorry, but that's a secret. I don't see what the big deal is. A lot of warriors show off their battle scars, so why can't I?"

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