Location: Room 474/ The Split Bean<br/>Tagged: Faith Noel<br/><br/>The clock began to hum out a tune, a familiar one. The station loved to play it. In fact, it had become her own personal theme song, often playing in her mind as she worked. Lucy stretched, her limbs reaching towards the headboard. A groan escaped her mouth, almost sounding inhuman. She sat up, her hair a mess of tangles. A shower would work wonders, taming her hair as well as the yawns she was unable to control.  The warm water washed over her body, awakening every pore.  The radio still blared to her from the bedroom through the open door. To turn it off would be easy. To lie back down and forget the day would be even easier. Easy wasn’t what she wanted anymore. Easy was what she had already had. It had been fun, but it wasn’t reality. This was reality, and the reality of it was the rent would come due. Pulling her clothes on, she hummed still with the new beat that now filled her space. It was small and sparsely decorated. Lucy didn’t have much in the way of money, but she didn’t need much. A small bed with comfortable bedding and food in the fridge. She had a small television, but when was there time to watch anything? Her two jobs kept her busy.  She had a small coffee table by the chair she would sit in to watch television when given the chance. For some odd reason, she preferred it over a dining table. There wasn’t time for breakfast this morning though. Lucy had taken extra time in the shower, and breakfast would have to be the short cut she would take to make it to work on time. Pulling her hair up into a ponytail, she took note of the college brochures on the table. She would love to go, but finances would be a problem, and she didn’t want to ask her parents for more money. If she was going to go, she would do so on her own. Two jobs and college classes would certainly be a challenge, but she was ready to prove to the world she could do it. It would certainly make her parents happy. A smile spread across her lips before she hit the button, silencing the radio, and headed out towards the elevator. “Hold it,” she shouted, seeing the door close.  A kind man held it for her. “Cutting it close this morning Lucy.” She laughed. “Yeah, I know. The shower was just too good.”<br/><br/>The doors would open on the lobby floor. She waved the man good-bye. He was a long time traveling companion almost every morning down to the lobby. Entrusted with the keys, she opened the door, and locked it behind herself. The morning would pass, with the aroma of coffee billowing out into the lobby. It seemed to wake the entire building. More and more people would begin to appear outside the door, ready to start their day. Right on time, Lucy opened the door, with the taste of croissant still in her mouth. “Good morning,” she would tell all the people coming inside. It was clear it was going to be another busy day.  When she noticed the name she had written on the cup, Lucy paused and swallowed hard. It was her. Her. ‘Better not mess this one up.’ It wasn’t common for her to do so with any order, but Lucy knew this one was special. Carefully she prepared it and steadied her voice before calling out, “Faith!” Her eyes were already on her. This was a customer she didn’t have to search for.<br/><br/><br/><br/>Location: Alley 74<br/>Tagged: Anyone<br/><br/>The sun rose slowly, prying at her closed eyes. “It’s not fair,” she mumbled, pulling at the tattered blanket she kept warm with. “Why don’t you go back down? Give us some more time,” she teased, squinting at the rising sun. Sitting up, she reached for the bottle of water sitting on the ground. “Another day Strings. You ready to earn something? One of us has to eat.” She chuckled softly before opening the bottle and taking a carefully measured sip. For all she knew, this bottle would have to last for a few days. Chances of that were slim, as the doorman would often let her sneak in to the bathroom he used. Standing up, she brushed her clothes off. They would have to do for another day. Washing clothes was difficult at best, and it required supplies and time. She wasn’t a savage after all. A small bottle of soap and a nearby water supply, that was free of charge of course, was it all took. The sun would do the rest to dry them by day. She would line them up on boxes behind the apartment building. Out of sight and out of trouble. That was her way of thinking. She grabbed her bag and thrust it over her shoulder before peeking around the corner. She saw him there, waving her towards the door. “Thanks,” she quickly said to him as she passed inside and disappeared inside his bathroom.  Inside she filled her bottle first. That was the most important thing to her.  Her ritual for getting ready for the day was simple. Water, toilet, and everything else. Simple enough.  Charlie splashed some water on her face and arranged her hair with her fingers. Not perfect, but it would do. There were no job interviews today, not that it mattered. They loved her until they found out she had no home address.  Something about that spoken people. Maybe they thought she would steal. Sure she had her time doing that, but that was in the past. A small squeeze of toothpaste on her finger, as it would have to last for a long time as well, and Charlie did the best she could.  She heard the man speaking with a woman. He was very formal with her. ‘Must be important,’ she thought. Charlie knew her time was wearing thin. She didn’t want to do anything to get her friend in trouble. Another quick ,”thanks,” to him, and she disappeared outside.<br/><br/>“Another day, another dollar. Eh Strings?” Her violin wasn’t just her source of money. It was her friend, at least the only one that was constantly there. As she lifted him to her chin, she gave a warm smile to the people hurrying about. “Goooooood morning everybody! How about a little wake up music please,” she said, remembering her hat to collect her day’s wages in. Fishing it from the bag, she placed it on the pavement. “And don’t forget to tip the lady. I greatly appreciate it. My stomach appreciate it, and String here, well he don’t need nothing but me to play him like a violin.” There were a few laughs from the passing people. “Any requests?” One man shouted something about a tune with an Irish flare. She nodded. “Ah yes. The Irish. I think I may have a wee ditty for you lad.” The violin raised once more, and music filled the air.