The Rolling Stones Imagines

||Keith Richards||

Trash Loves Trash

[An AU in which Keef is a trashy boi and you are not.]

"Ey! Would ye get some of dat fresh roadkill for me?!" An overweight woman, in her late 40's, stood outside of her slum of a trailer home and yelled at her teenage son who was literally digging a trench outside of the home. 

"Aww come on! Why do I always gotta be the one ta do this!" The boy, presumably 16 or 17, threw his shovel off to the side and stormed over to the road. He hated 'hunting' for his family. And by hunting, they meant that you should hit the roads to find some roadkill. It was usally possums or rabbits or raccons that they found on the road. If they were extrememly lucky, and the other nearby families didn't take it already, there would be a dead, mangled deer at the side of the road they could collect and store in the freezer. 

"HURRY UP, KEITH! YE WANT SUPPER!? GO FIND ME SOMETHIN' NOW!" That fat older lady, who was Keith's 'mom' shouted over at Keith, making him wince. He didn't like going hungry. It always hurt him. Some days, his mom wouldn't feed him because she wanted all the food to herself, or if Keith misbehaved. Keith's father was hardly ever home. He was busy working in a sweatshop that made rugs. And even if Keith's father was home, he'd be arguing with his mother, getting incredibly drunk, or going out with his 'buddies' to shoot some 'animals.' Pretty shady stuff going on. 

"ONE SECOND! I NEED TO FIND US SOMETHIN' GOOD!" Keith yelled back and began to search and scan faster for anything. One of the neighbor boys, Mick, had already gotten a fresh Rabbit from the side of the road. When Mick caught Keith looking at him, and the rabbit, Mick flipped Keith off and stuck his tongue out before scurrying back into his shipping container house. 

"Wot is his issue?" Keith shook his head, wondering what mental health problems Mick probably had by now, and continued looking for roadkill. 

And there it was... The perfect roadkill... A nice and fat raccoon sat in the middle of the road. Almost fresh. Only a few flies were swarming around it. Keith didn't bother to look both ways before walking into the middle of the road. A car suddenly happened to be on the road. Keith didn't even notice.

The driver of the car did. 

The driver of the car saw him, screamed, and swerved to the right, almost getting stuck in the ditch. But then again, the driver was driving like, 5 miles an hour so nothing bad really happened.

"Woah!" Keith jumped back, near dropping his fresh piece of roadkill.

"AAA!" The driver of the car got out and ran over to Keith. "Are you ok!?" She was in fear, because if she killed someone with her car, her parents would not be very happy with her.

"Of course I am, yes." Keith nodded, hypnotized by the sight of this pretty bird who stood in front of him. She was too clean and too well put together to be in this god forsaken neighborhood.

"Ok. Good! I don't want to be grounded yet again this month!" The driver looked to be around 16, and no one else was in the car. She must've been driving by herself in this car illegally. Nice. It was always cool when a clean cut suburban bum broke the law every once in a while. It made Keith feel less trashy himself. Keith was very much so trashy. Very trashy he was.

"I'm not dead, and you didn't kill me, so you're good." Keith nodded and slung the dead, already starting to rot, raccoon over his shoulder. "Say, what's yer name? Where ya from?"

"I'm from white diamond drive," The girl stated. Keith took note of the drive, for that drive was home to middle class people. "My name is (Y/n) and I really need to leave right now."

(Y/n)? What a lovely name. Keith thought to himself before touching (Y/n) on the shoulder. "WAIT!"

(Y/n) looked disgusted with Keith's existence. He really couldn't blame her though. Keith was disgusting and dirty and looked like trash. He was but a trashbag to this lovely middle class lady.