Dear Bad Boy || Ransom Drysdale

"This is good wine, Soph." I read the label, a little flutter in my chest takes my breath away when I realise that it's the same wine Ransom ordered for me at the airport.
Sophie walks around the island in my kitchen, she takes a sip of the glass I just poured, "is it? Joshua gave it to me."
"Oh, so it's Joshua now?" I chuckle.
"Well 'he who shall not be named'," she means the movie star, he turned out to be a massive dick. She dropped him rather swiftly. The hassle wasn't worth the paycheck.
She took on a much smaller client the pay wasn't half bad and he lavished her with expensive gifts.
"Where was I?" She stares at the bottom of her empty glass, immediately filling it up.
"Joshua..."
"Oh yeah, so we're actually hitting it off."
I try my best to weaken the beaming smile that pains my cheeks, "oh...do you have a boyfriend now?"
She flares her nostrils at me, "you know I don't do that!" She smiles coyly at me, "but maybe."
Her cell phone chimes right on cue, "I'm sorry Eva, I gotta take this."
She disappears into my bedroom while I re-cork the wine, placing it in the fridge. I finish my wine and hers and put the glasses in the dishwasher.

I let my mind wander for a moment, thinking back to Ransom on the train.
I had thought he would have texted or called, but it's been a week and there has been nothing.
That's okay though.
So long as he is happy.
I think I might be happy too, but I'm not entirely sure. Its never happened before.
"Eva, I'm so sorry. Joshua called and he needs me." She grabs her bag flustering as she throws in her keys and wallet, staring at me through apologetic eyes.
"Off you go, what kind of friend would I be if I cockblocked you?"
She grabs my face between her hands, "I love you, y'know that right?" Sophie heads towards the door, "I'll see you next Friday for birthday drinks, okay? You still haven't told me what you want for your birthdaaaaaay!" Her voice trailed off as the door closes behind her.

I sit on my sofa alone, working through some of Monday's lesson plans trying to get ahead a little. If I finish them tonight, then I can have my Sunday free.
I set the pile of papers down and put my completed lesson plan into my binder glancing up at the clock on the wall, god did it only take me an hour to finish all of this?
I take a peek through the blinds, it's a nice night. The sun is just getting a little low but it's a dry March evening which is unusual for New York, so I decide to take myself for a semi-sober-up walk. Anything to keep me busy and pass the time, I'm struggling a little with being alone sometimes. Especially in the evenings. I make it to the elevator before I realise that I didn't pick my jacket up, I tug down the sleeves of my favourite cream cable knit sweater. I should be warm enough.

I weave myself through the faceless crowds, finding myself wondering what their stories are. Making up scenarios for each of them in my head. The handsome suited man rushing for his train, he works on Wallstreet. He's going home to his expensive townhouse where his pregnant wife will have dinner laid out on the table for him.

I pass a young homeless girl sitting on the ground next to a parking meter, her toothless smile breaking my heart as she holds out an empty coffee cup begging for any spare change, every passer-by ignoring her. Pretending like she doesn't exist, her eyes cast downwards at the silent rejection.

But I see her.

I stuff my hand into my pocket fumbling around for whatever money I have on me. I drop a crumpled up twenty dollar bill and a few coins into the cup, "I'm sorry, it's all I have." I simper apologetically, "I have my credit card though, can I buy you some dinner?"

"No thank you." She whispers, her eyes brimming with tears.

I wanted to ask for her story, I wanted to know how she ended up here. She had to have been my age, her cheeks drawn in with hunger and possibly other things. I didn't want to make assumptions because who knows, any one of us could have ended up here.