Can I Have Your Attention Please

Chapter 2: Accent

QOC: Are you more of a city or country person?

o • O • o
- Sam's POV -
O • o • O

I've never been good at math or science or anything that actually involves numbers or factual thinking. But what I am skilled at, are things like music, reading, and psychoanalysis. Things that don't have set facts. You have to get creative and think deeper to uncover the meaning of it all.

I guess since being homeschooled all my life in the orphanage didn't engage me enough into the number stuff, I never learned it properly. But it's fine. I don't really want to do anything that involves intense algebra or geometry and chemistry or anatomy. Of course you need a basic set of math and science skills, which I obtain, but all I want to do is play the violin for a living.

I don't want to just play it though. And not orchestrated at fancy concerts. I want to be able to produce music with the violin in a modern way with modern music. Sadly, it's an unrealistic goal. So I don't build my hopes up very high.

I sigh as I walk along the filthy sidewalk downtown, eyeing the place suspiciously as always. No one is near tonight, thankfully, so I make my way toward the apartment gutter and hook my violin onto my back on top of the rucksack. Then, with a small groan, I jump onto it and begin climbing. I make it to the second floor's roof that disconnects before the building continues onto the third.

I blow out a breath and rub my hands together due to the friction I felt on the metal. Then I walk over to the ladder that goes up to the third floor's roof and descend upward. The ladder creaks and groans because of its age and the amount of times I've used it. Honestly, I have to believe that one of these days it's just going to crumble on me.

It takes awhile to reach the top because it's so high up, but I make it. I brush my hair out of my face as the soft breeze strokes my face, releasing a sigh. I face the outer edge of the building and stare out at the city from afar, ignoring the neighborhood closest to me.

The one I'm in is crummy with sleezebags all over the place. There's hardly any working showers or bathrooms around, and crime is most ramped. But the beautiful city out there with the big, tall office buildings and the beach just on the coast looks so welcoming. I wish I could live there. And I plan on it. Just me and Emily, once I get her out of the orphanage.

The reason I'm here and not there living on the streets is because there's no cops that come around often, despite its obvious and shady image. They can't stop me from living alone and not in a shelter. But if I were in the actual part of the city, then they would take me to a soup kitchen or something. And I hate relying on others. I'm doing just fine out here exploring and discovering new ways to survive.

So that's why I found the tallest building in this neighborhood called Talon Grove and used it as my campsite for the past year. It just so happens to be an apartment building, so I have to be very quiet when I take steps. The roof is quite thin, and every time I walk I can hear the hollowness of the inside. I seriously think that one of these days, I'm gonna fall through. Regardless, the top roof has the best view of a far away, lit up city.

I turn away and walk over to my little campout I have on the concrete surface. I have a little setup here with everything I need. Above me is a white tarp I found near the docks by the coast. It was just floating around in the water and pretty dirty, so I took it out and brought it with me up here. I made it hover over me, using wooden posts from the hardware store to prop it up. That way when it rains it it's too hot I have something to hermit under.