Scars Left Behind
Chapter 1 Laynie
4 Years Earlier
“Ican’t believe we’re in NYC!” Charlie said, as she shoved fries into her mouth.
I smiled back, just as excited. “Even though our apartment is smaller than my closet back home, I think this is going to be an epic year.” We toasted with our chocolate milkshakes and giggled as they splattered on the table. “When do you start your new job again?”
“Monday. So we have this weekend of freedom, and then I’m a slave to the keyboard.”
“I need to find a job.” I sighed, swirling a fry into my milkshake. “I’ve auditioned for like 10 shows, but not a single callback yet.”
“Laynie, it’s fine.” She waved her hand in the air with half her mouth full. “We have a plan, remember? Don’t stress about it. I got us.”
Charlie has been my best friend since 8th grade. We always said we would move to NYC one day, and we finally made the dream a reality. The plan was for me to work on Broadway, but I think I underestimated the competition. Charlie is a self-taught software engineer who landed a job making 150k starting. She earns enough money for us to live comfortably, but I want to contribute. I don’t want Charlie feeling like she will need to take care of me, although she would, and does, without question. I think she feels some moral obligation to me since my parents took her in when we were in 10th grade.
Charlie had a tumultuous childhood and an unpredictable drug-addicted mother. I love her with all my heart and love that she made a life for herself despite the odds against her. When we turned 21, we finally made the NYC dream a reality.
“Let’s get out of here and explore!” Charlie said. She threw the last piece of her sandwich on her tray. “I downloaded this app to help us use the train system better. Yesterday was a disaster.”
I nodded in agreement. Yesterday, we had gone a bit too far from the city and didn’t realize the trains stopped running in certain areas at certain times. We ended up running into this creep that followed us around until Charlie confronted him. It forced us to take an Uber that cost over $80.
Charlie tied her jet black hair in a bun and got up from the table. She had on black leather pants and a gray ribbed shirt tucked into her pants. She had a Gothic style about her, always wearing black, dying her hair black, and wearing thick black combat boots with almost every outfit. I loved her ability to not give a flying fuck about what anyone thought. She was an artist with an IQ out of this world.
Meanwhile, I care too much about what people think about me. Always second-guessing my wardrobe, my hair, my makeup. I wear my hair down almost every day, allowing my wavy hair to be free, but I wish I had the courage to be more drastic and take risks like Charlie.
After a full day of exploring, the ride on the train back to the apartment was jam-packed with people. I could barely find a place on the metal pole to place my hand before the damn train jerked me forward. Looking around at everyone on their phones made me think we live in some kind of simulation. I had a phone, but only because my mom insisted. I don’t have social media and barely use the damn thing. Meanwhile, the rest of the world has turned into phone zombies, Charlie included. Although Charlie isn’t into social media, she uses her phone for a fuck ton of other stuff. One of those being online dating. She told me our senior year she was bisexual, after she declined 2 offers to prom and I questioned her. She said she wasn’t into the whole patriarch of our society and found it demeaning to women.
My eyes wandered over the faces on the train, and nobody seemed to notice. I always had to alert Charlie when our stop was coming up and she had to snap back to reality. I nudged her as the doors opened, letting her know to get off. We climbed through the crowds of people and finally made our way out of the train station.
I shivered as the cool breeze touched my cheeks. The sun set much earlier in NYC than Tennessee and the wind chill was a bitch. We half ran into the apartment, grateful for the warmth it offered.