<a class="postlink" href="http://i1213.photobucket.com/albums/cc465/saphiraah1/Decorated%20images/Alone-1.jpg">[ img ]</a><br/>It was too damn cold to sit still. Brian would have liked to get some sleep... so many sleepless nights lately... but it was just too cold to sit around. His worn-out sneakers made almost no sound as they flopped onto the pavement with each step. He pulled his hoodie down over his ears and hunched his shoulders against the chill. There had to be some quiet little place to catch a little shut-eye without some drunk waking him up, some whore trying to get her germ-coated hands in his pants... or any number of other interruptions. He kept walking. As he always did when he wasn't stuck at work hauling boxes.<br/><br/>He spent his evenings hauling stolen items and drugs for Nameless. Seriously. The guy goes by Nameless. Clever... any way, Nameless was a local punk trying to make it big in the theft and drug business. He was doing well enough to pay Brian a few bucks an hour to haul boxes around in the middle of the night. Whatever he could get, he'd take. The problem was... working for drug dealers wasn't safe for a guy that refused to do drugs. Most of the goonies he worked with, and for come to think of it, would be a lot happier with Brian laying dead in a gutter somewhere. They were nervous he'd rat them out to the cops. Like the cops ever did anything for Brian... why would he ever help them? He spotted a little alcove next to a flight of concrete steps that led up to a warehouse of some sort. Looks as good as anything. Pulling a few newspapers out of a trash bin, he hunched his tall, lanky form into a ball, as tight into the corner as he could, arranged the papers over himself, and immediately began to doze off.<br/><br/>Of course... he'd only been asleep for what felt like a minute when a car pulled up. He sat up quietly and watched as people started materializing out of nowhere to get in the car.