[Titanic] Ticket

When the summer just came, Lester had already established a pretty good relationship with Victor—probably because of the unique cornflower at the funeral or some other reason, in short, in a short period of time, A young man can walk into Mr. Strauss Jr.'s office on the top floor of Macy's and ask his secretary to make him a delicious cup of coffee.

"...Lester, I have to say, you are truly a genius. You are absolutely exquisite." Victor finished flipping through a stack of white paper that was almost three centimeters thick, clasped his hands on his lower abdomen, and praised in a flat tone He--the light eyes had a nice gleam in the sun--like a jewel or something, which is a very tacky comparison, and very effeminate, but Lester couldn't think of anything else to do with it. adjective.

Victor is a qualified businessman who is good at highlighting and using all his advantages-even if you occasionally think that he is reticent and expressionless, it is absolutely impossible not to admit his charm.And Carl—oh, he usually looks like a bluff, but after you get to know him, his tyrant-like bad temper ruins all first impressions, although equally capable, but in Carl never had the same reputation as Victor in upper-class circles.

Lester changed his posture lazily. Because he thought of Carl, the smile on the corner of his mouth was soft and sweet, and the brows were as long and delicate as the tail feathers of a wagtail bird. He pointed at the coffee cup with his slender fingers: "Praise, Mr. Strauss. I want to start the project by August. What's your decision?"

"I can't miss this, absolutely." Victor nodded, with an almost sharp inquiry in his eyes—or some expectations that were not obvious, "But I don't understand, why don't you find Hockley .He was also a very shrewd businessman—and deep pockets."

Lester turned the cup in his hand, smiling casually and coldly: "...Hmm, maybe it's just because——I don't want to make wedding dresses for others. I have a difficult lover named Hockley, I don't need another tougher Hockley to take over my life, Victor."

Victor put his hands in his trouser pockets expressionlessly, walked to the sofa where he was half lying down and leaned down - he didn't use hairspray, and those messy black curly hair fell in front of Lester's eyes, like a piece of dark hair. The black curtain almost covered all the emotions in his eyes: "You make me want to kiss you, boy."

Lester half closed his eyes: "Don't force me to beat you, Victor, I thought we were friends."

"There is no rule that you can't be in heat with your friends, not to mention that every sweet love begins with friendship-my mother said so." Victor shrugged, with a faint smile in his voice, "Anyway, you chose Me, I won Hockley, that's a fact."

"Even without him knowing?"

"Even without him knowing."

……

Lester left Macy's at five o'clock in the afternoon. He declined Victor's dinner invitation and did not call for a carriage. He walked leisurely on Broadway Street, which was covered with gray and white bricks and was still very lively at this time. superior.

Some young people in strange clothes walked through the street laughingly, most of them held some boards made of cardboard or wood, on which many strange-shaped fonts were sprayed with shocking black or red paint.

"Artistic Freedom! Priceless!"

"Join us quickly! Lyon Theater, high salary including room and board!"

"God is dead!"

There was an abandoned truck on the corner, pink paint splattered on it, and the name of the shop written in green paint - Augustus Crepes - which really drives people nuts for its eccentric taste, The iron sheet of the carriage was cut open, and a figure wearing a felt hat was busy inside. There was no business, but it seemed that the owner was enjoying himself.

Leicester is a true Englishman, he has been in two lifetimes—and British people have always been famous for their rigidity and strictness, and rarely put anything out of the ordinary on the table. The young man looked at this scene in amazement. The street is strange - I feel that I have probably become a foreigner who stumbled into the Lilliputian by mistake or something.

As Nietzsche said, when you look into the abyss, the abyss is also looking into you.

A young man trying to bend himself into a 'U', covered in blue and red paint, fell from a street lamp, groaning loudly with his legs crossed - honestly, the color scheme reminded Lester I think of a well-known superhero, hey, who hasn't had a childhood, right?

Lester stepped forward to help him up, and held his leg and groped for a while: "No bone is hurt. Are you all right, sir?"

"Oh man, that helped a lot, man. I think I crushed my tailbone."

Lester couldn't read the expression on his blue face, but he was still alive and well, and he chuckled softly: "If that's the case, you don't have a chance to stand here and talk to me." ,gentlemen."

The performance artist rubbed his ass and smiled silly: "That's right. I'm Alex Mason, and you're a new face—I have to say that there have been several new faces recently, and it's the first time I've come to Broadway Street ?”

"Lester Rowland. You know everyone here—I mean, everyone?"

Lester was so surprised that he was almost speechless. The young man squinted his eyes triumphantly, raised a finger and shook it: "No, it's just almost."

"This is already very powerful, really, Mr. Mason." Lester praised sincerely.

"Call me Alex."

The young man led him all the way to the front of the broken truck, and unceremoniously honked the exhaust horn hanging outside the truck. The thing made a terrible noise, and the boss inside flew as fast as his ass was set on fire. He jumped up and rushed to the glass: "Welcome - Alex! You rude, son-of-a-bitch, if you try to honk so hard I'll beat you up - beat you to death , not a single word is adulterated!"

The tall and strong boss almost pushes the tightly packed carriage, and the expression on his face is like being trampled a hundred times by a bull—frustrated and angry, but with a bit of weird connivance, Les I can see that he has nothing to do with this young man.

"Come in and change your clothes, I've said it eight hundred times, don't try to hang yourself on a street lamp as a magnet! You'll turn yourself into a high paraplegic, stupid kid!" The shopkeeper pushed aside the creaking Tiemen, he almost collapsed his muscles when he saw Lester, his eyes were as sharp as a drawn sword, "Who are you?"

"Don't—oh, Jesus, don't be so mean to him, Bell. He just helped me—yes, when I tried to break myself into a paraplegic again!" Alex pushed the strong man away. The man who looked like a bear walked into the car without thinking, "Make him something to eat, I guess you like eggs, ham and salmon?"

"Exactly, if you don't mind, I would also like to add some light cream and cheese."

Alex's energetic voice came from inside: "Of course, no problem! Belk is so good at it!"

The owner of the store looked extremely aggrieved, he pushed himself into the small shop that was too crowded, and made Lester a crepe with cheese and wheat. The breath was full of sunshine, and Lester felt hungry almost all at once.

"Thank you, sir." Lester thanked politely, and then wolfed it down unceremoniously, his movements were only basic and not too rude--Bell's expression relaxed a little--he just has this ability, in every environment They are all like ducks in water.

The shopkeeper still kept a trace of prudence in his eyes, and muttered in a low voice: "I don't know what you are doing here? That kid Alex always gets me into trouble..."

Lester assured with a genuine smile and eyes that he wasn't eavesdropping - even though Bell's voice sounded like it was yelling in your ear.

Alex came out quickly. He washed the paint off his body, his slightly longer blond hair was pulled into a ponytail at the back of his head, he was wearing a baggy old T-shirt and jeans with holes, and he was pulling a pair of old canvas. Shoes - Looks like any young gangster walking the streets of the United States, but the temperament is unexpectedly pleasing.

"What about me?"

The boy knocked on Bell's arm almost unreasonably. The owner seemed to be used to this, sighed and took out a lunch box from under the counter: "Vegetable salad, put salt and olive oil, it's ready. Alec, you have to Eat some meat, honestly, you're pretty skinny."

The boy squatted on the ponytail to finish his dinner, carelessly brushed the hair that was hanging down in front of his eyes behind his ears, and comforted softly: "Don't complain, I want to enter the theater, and keeping fit is a must. Just wait until the exam is over Yes, I promise."

There was an air of envy between them, and Lester thought he might be missing Carl a little bit—they rarely had the chance to be like this when they returned to the White Cuckoo—as long as the two of them stayed together, talking endlessly. Talking nonsense also becomes warm and cute.

Alex bit the spoon and raised his head. He was about to say something when suddenly a figure ran out from the alley. The man's tone was anxious and flustered: "No, oh my god, Alex, Bell, Help me, Garcia is going to die!"

The boy almost jumped up from the bench, and rushed outside without even putting down his lunch box: "Jack! What happened, oh, why are you bloody all over your body! What happened to Garcia?"

Lester looked at the embarrassed Jack - he was staring at himself in astonishment - his gaze was probably somewhere between seeing Godzilla and God, the young man leaned against the dirty truck bed and raised a narrow smile : "Hi Jack, long time no see, how can I help?"