Superimposed

9

A/N: So I had to correlate all the chapters properly again so I've changed all the numbers of them now. Having two chapters in one part is so annoying, but it was my fault for not being able to copy and paste properly ????????

As you can probably tell, the story is mainly fictional. All the characters are made up, the only one who is real is Taron - but even his persona is different in this story for the sake of the story. I'm pretty sure he didn't do A-Levels and, of course, he didn't grow up in Dulwich.
The only other 'real' characters who may appear are actors/ people in the public eye. But, again, their persona (even if loosely based on their public persona) is mainly fictional for the story.

I've created a whole fictional world and so it's not trying to be true to real life, only made up for entertainment purposes.

Some of the photos I use in the header are just images to help readers gain a sense of settings, outfits and sometimes foreshadowing what the chapter is about.

Anyway, here's the next chapter:

The sun had set and the night had begun, the faint noise of people in the street kept Taron awake. He listened as they got closer and then as they faded out until it was just him again.
Letting out a sigh he laid down on the hard bench, the sun had drained the heat from the day and it left Taron slightly jittery as the night went on.
After drifting in and out of sleep, he'd decided that enough was enough and he began walking around again with just his bag of belongings slung over his shoulder.
His jaw was clenched and his eyes fixed ahead as he moped around, walking through alleys and watching as lights in houses turned off and on.

It felt like an eternity before the sun began to rise again and Taron walked back to Dulwich park to wait for the toilet block to open at 8am.

"How long have you been out here kid?" A council officer asked, a short plump man in a high vis jacket.
"A couple weeks" Taron shrugged, yawning heavily as the lack of sleep set into him.

Taron watched as the guy opened the gates to the block and gave him a nod
"You don't want to make this your life son, try to get a hostel or something. The streets aren't the place to be"
Taron just scoffed at this, "Don't suppose you've got any fags have you?"
Much to Taron's amazement the guy produced a pack from his back pocket and handed him one. Taron hadn't smoked for a week now and he was growing desperate, he'd rationed his last ones out to just one a day but after the last one was smoked all he could think about was how to afford another pack.
"You should try to find a job, how old are you?"
"18"
"You in college?"
"Sixth form, doing A-Levels" Taron told him, taking the offering of the guy's lighter
"Bright boy" He smiled, "You gonna sit your exams?"
"Yeah, only reason I'm staying round here" Taron told him, taking a long deep drag of what he thought of as pure heaven. The taste of tobacco filled his mouth and settled in his lungs, he slumped against the toilet block with one foot on the wall. His right hand extended where the cigarette was burning, the smell drifting up and filling the air between the two.
"You're from here?"
"There" Taron pointed in the vague direction of his street which wasn't a million miles away from where he'd been sleeping out.

The officer looked a little confused, had he not come across homeless people living within a 3-mile radius of their ex-house before?
"Why don't you just go home?"
"It's not a great place to be, I'd rather be out here" Taron explained, becoming detached from the life he once led.
Being out on the street changes people, it makes them think about the world differently and detaches them from their old reality. Mainly because being on the street requires you to be sharp at all times, ready to defend yourself to live another day. You need to live in the moment and can rarely think about the past, the present is now and if you think too much you'll spiral into a depression.
The fear you feel at the beginning soon eases and although you never quite become fearless, you do learn how to survive and at least get some sleep on a cold bench.

All of this was true for Taron, he hadn't seen Phil or his mum since he left over two weeks ago now. He hadn't attempted calling the house, partly because he didn't have any change for the phone box; but also because he was scared to. Not just because of Phil, he was scared of hearing his mother's voice again. If he heard that sweet sound his world would come crashing down and he'd miss her even more than he already does.

"Well good luck to you son, remember to study hard - looks like you can't afford to fail these exams"

Those words echoed round in Taron's mind as he washed for the day ahead. As much as he wanted to pass his exams, he didn't feel as though his life depended on it; no matter how bad his situation was now.

During the weeks leading up to the exam season, he stayed at school till gone 5 o'clock every evening. He took the council officer's advice of studying hard and took it quite literally. He hadn't done any studying prior to that time and so took every opportunity he could to. It wasn't like he had a home to go back to anyway.

The teachers noticed the change in him, the improvement to his classwork and how much he did seem to know about each subject he studied.
Rehearsals got stricter for drama, teachers were setting more past papers to complete and although he didn't realise it, that was what was keeping him going. The assignments and work he had to complete, he'd stay for hours in the library just working through papers and textbooks. He'd go till he couldn't anymore and begin the walk back to where ever he'd decided to sleep that night.

Taron thought about little else and in a way it was good for him, he didn't have time to dwell on anything more than the exam dates quickly approaching.