because you're evil and you lie Who: Brody/open When: Sunday night/Monday morning Where: Some random street
He needed a job.
He was adrift, you see. Absolutely no anchor at all. Back home, he had school. With Daniel, he had... well, Daniel. Daniel, who'd get him into clubs he was much too young to be in and let him have fun. To a point, anyway, when he started getting distant and mean. And now he had... what? He had nothing. And it was making him a little nervous to depend on the questionable kindness of strangers; having a job would make him feel at least a little more secure, though he was still waiting for the other shoe to drop any day now and to be told he needed to get his ass out on the streets.
It would be nice to have a steady source of income before that happened.
But so far his job hunt had been unsuccessful at best. He avoided chain stores, knowing they'd want papers--papers he didn't have, since he was pretty much an illegal immigrant. And so far he'd been rejected from every place he'd approached. He wasn't even asking for much. Just some cash under the table to wash dishes or scrub toilets or anything. All of them turned him down, as was the case of this last man, who literally threw him out on the street.
He climbed to his feet and scowled behind him. "Yeah, eff you too!" he said, making a rude gesture in the general direction of the building. He huffed, brushing imaginary dirt off his pants and tried his best to look dignified. He sighed, brushing the hair out of his face. He was not going to be giving handjobs behind Dumpsters again.
There was a clock visible through the next building's window. He glanced at it--12:42 AM--and laughed, bitter, tired and annoyed. "Happy fucking birthday to me," he muttered.