My evening routine is kicking in. I’m settling down by the water, taking a little walk, and checking Harry’s latest post.
I’m almost back at the bridge, so I’m already pulling out my phone. You’re probably wondering how I get power. Let me explain quickly. There’s a woman who lives near here who takes a walk every Saturday morning around eleven. That’s when I climb in through the bathroom window and grab a charger. I also snag a tiny bit of food, just enough that she won’t notice. It’s the only day I get anything to eat.
She always comes back exactly an hour later, so I sneak out around then. Then I walk back to my usual spot under the bridge.
Almost no one comes to this bridge. You might wonder why I live on the street. It’s simple: I’m bi, and my parents didn’t accept it. They kicked me out. I had no friends to go to.
Anyway, I’m at the bridge now, sitting on a piece of cardboard I found somewhere on the street. I open Instagram and head to Harry’s account. As expected, he’s posted again.
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@harrystyles: Last night was insane!
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@niallhoran: Amazing!
@hazzabear: Omg that pic^^
@zaynmalik: Amazayn
@directioner28: @zaynmalik This word is going in my dictionary! #amazayn
@louist91: Hot as fuck!
@oliviawilde: Proud
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