Kay lives on the streets, addicted and broken, she gave up on doing anything with her life years ago. Until she meets a stranger, a stranger called Harry, who is the first person to look inside.
(contains swearing and drug use)


1. Meeting

The dull light from the lamp-post shines through the line of trees, lighting up my bag as I rummage through it, pulling out the tangle of blankets hastily stuffed inside. I yank out a brush and quickly brush through my matted hair, then shove it back inside. With a quick glance around, I leave my pile of bedding on the pavement and jog over to the nearby oak tree, feeling for the hole in the trunk. When my fingers curl around the edges of it I grab the rucksack off my shoulders and push it through the gap, grunting as it refuses to fit into the tiny space, then smile when it drops through, landing inside with a soft thud.

I walk back over to my blankets and begin sorting them out, wrapping them around myself as I settle down on the bench, bringing my feet up onto the hard wood and stretching out, shivering a little in the cool night air. The street is empty as usual, which is the reason I picked this one. If I'd slept on a main road I'd have been attacked or robbed within hours.

Yearning for the beckoning arms of sleep, I shut my eyes tight against the dark. Then a heavy weight lands on my legs, bending one backwards and making me lurch up and pull the knife out of my pocket, turning towards whatever this new threat was.

"Who's there?" I say, voice panicked.

A muffled voice comes from next to me, having quickly jerked up after hearing my cry. "I'm sorry, I didn't know you were sitting there."

"Well, I was," I mutter. The figure remains. Tentatively I bring my legs up, wrapping my arms around them and allowing him to sit down next to me, putting the knife back into my pocket but keeping hold of it, just in case. He didn't sound like an axe murderer or a rapist, but you couldn't be too careful.

"Thanks," he says, sinking down and looking over at me. The light shines on his face, illuminating his features. Curly hair springs out from his head and a glittering smile grins at me; guy about my age, at a guess. Early twenties, probably. With a start, I realise that I recognise him from somewhere.

Pointing at him, I rack my brains for who he could be. "You! You're that one, that one from the newspapers. Like, Harris or something, you're in that band."

"Yeah, that's probably me. I'm Harry," he holds his hand out and I tentatively take it, my small hand swamped in his.

"Kay," I reply, smiling slightly. I'd never met a celebrity. Magazines had often blown past me, and I usually picked them up, flicking through the glossy pages to distract myself. His face had been splashed across one or two, and even if I wasn't a fan, it was still slightly awing. 

The situation was almost laughable. A poor homeless girl shaking hands with a big celebrity, who had actually sat on her as she was about to go to sleep on a public bench.

We sit in silence for a moment or two, until he speaks. "Do you want some money?" I jerk up, shuffling away from him in annoyance.

"So you think you can just waltz in, being all rich and famous and shit, and dole out money to the poor homeless girl?" I'm almost shouting, I'm that pissed off. Funny how moods can change in the blink of an eye.

He shrugs. "Sorry, I was just offering. Starve, then." Glaring at him out of the corner of my eyes, I stare out at the dull street. A cat scampers by and I hold out my hand, clicking with my tongue. It takes a tentative look at me, before running over and letting me stroke its head, leaning back into my palm.

I laugh as it jumps onto me, curling on my lap and letting me run my hands through its soft fur, velvety against my rough fingers. Its warm stomach heats up my lap, almost a hot water bottle.

"You like cats?" Harry says, reaching over and ruffling its ears, smiling as it purrs.

"Yeah, used to have one at my parents'. Do you?"

Blinking a little, the cat rests its head on me as I rest my hand on its back and turn to look at Harry. "I used to have one at my parents' too, but it died."

"That's sad," I say without any real emotion. It's hard to feel sympathy for a dead animal you've never met. "What're you doing outside anyway? It's like midnight. On a tuesday."

"I dunno, I just like walking, and it's quieter at night. Good time for walking and thinking." 

I nod in agreement, watching as he slips a hand into his pocket and brings out his phone, the small screen lighting up in the darkness as he scrolls through something. "Guess you're right there."

We remain in silence, broken by the occasional purr from the cat, which is beginning to drop off on me. Then he stands up abruptly, looming over me a little. "I'd better go, y'know, get some sleep. I'll, er, leave you to it."

"Sure," I reply through a yawn, stretching my legs back out and rearranging my blankets a little. "Nice talking to you."

"You too," he smiles, teeth almost sparkling in the light. After one last stroke of the cat he walks away, only a black silhouette getting smaller and smaller.

The cat remains on top of me as I close my eyes once more, and slowly fall into the arms of sleep.


Hey guys, I don't have anyone who's liked this yet, but I'm gonna try and get some more readers soon. I thought it'd be a fun idea to have pictures at the end of each chapter with a song lyric I like that relates to the chapter. If it works you can see it above, tell me if you like it :D xxx

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