[Titanic] Ticket

Lester kicked open the door, which was painted with uninspiring cement gray, but the inside of the door looked like ruins left by the war-it was worse than the sun-baked asphalt road and the woman's The reporter's chattering questions made him even more desperate.

The distance from the entrance to the living room is occupied by large and small cardboard boxes, and the clothes wrapped in plastic bags are randomly piled up on the sofa - the hanging part has been scratched, because of Strauss' private seal. The complicated Macy's logo curled up at one pitiful corner - it looked like a silent complaint, given that it didn't have the function of opening its mouth to speak, and those bits and pieces popped out of the cardboard box, just watching They, Lester, didn't have the courage to pick up a paper knife.

He sat on the steps of the door, loosened the tie around his neck, and half-lyed on the ground with his hands back, he heard a hollow sound coming from inside his body.

Alaska popped out of a pile of soft pillows—a drool-tick teddy bear with a tiny piece of yellow tape stuck to its back, eyes moist and bright.

Lester beckoned to it, and he didn't even bother to remove the tape for it. He sighed and hugged the bewildered puppy, and buried his face in its soft and dense fur: "Hey , you don’t think it’s too good here, do you?”

Alaska whimpered twice, which was considered a response.

There was a moment of silence, and Lester held his dog a little bewilderedly, his fingers hard to straighten, he was alone here, or another dog - but it was just a heartless little bastard.

He was a little confused as to how this had happened.

He left the White Cuckoo farm—a month and 28, maybe 29 days—and threw himself into work, trying to transform himself into a busy worker bee.

Of course, he was Lester Roland, so this matter became not difficult at all.

He wandered among the upper class, with a smile on his face and a heart like ice and snow, as if he had never been far away from this circle.

Until three hours ago, Victor snatched his wine glass, tried the temperature of his forehead, then looked directly into his eyes, and said in a tone that was so worried that it was almost sissy: "Lester, You don't look well, you need to rest."

He bet he was like a stupid penguin back then, with his mouth open - and ready with evidence to refute it - enough to make a Christmas shopping list, but he ended up being silent.

Victor is right.

Strauss is as annoying as Hockley.

"Angels" sold for a good price—almost unexpectedly, in fact, and the money and fame made Lester an upstart in social circles.Everyone was talking about the blond hair, the gray eyes, the pretty face, the failing businesses and down-and-outs he'd invested in, the World Star Entertainment he'd built—and given the film industry's slump these days, he's a big deal. Some old-fashioned capitalists and old aristocrats looked more like it was a joke, and of course his aristocratic status, many people guessed that he was at least a viscount-this made many ladies and ladies put him on the list of candidates for marriage, and one after another What came was all kinds of sour verbal criticism.

Talking like how much he'd love to be that goddamn popular lover.

Lester rolled over with his dog in his arms, hissed softly with his cheek against the cold floor, and God knows outsiders' opinions had a penny to do with him again.He was busy socializing, investing, and building companies, so that he had no time to care about others, just because when he stopped, his thoughts would overwhelm him like ice-cold sea water.

In order to prevent all those ridiculous regrets, despair and self-loathing, Lester decided to get other things to clean his house. He rubbed his cheeks and sat up. First, he removed the tape for Little Alaska, and then took Pat it on the ass: "Don't try to mess with me, baby, or you'll have to eat those unappetizing looking dog food."

But this kind of warning obviously has no effect on the disobedient puppy. Alaska happily followed him, even trying to reach the hanging dog when he was moving the cardboard box. and was almost stepped on many times when Lester turned around - the young man couldn't help relenting at his blue dog eyes, Gosh, he swore the dog should be named Hockley.

The cleaning work lasted until 11:30, most of the cardboard boxes were sorted and put away, the closet was full, and the dazzling array of decorations finally returned to their places. Lester put on an apron and walked into the kitchen. I fell asleep after tossing - it was curled up in a corner of the sofa, with its head buried under its belly, and the young man bent down to give it a kiss and a promise about beef brisket stewed with potatoes.

Lester cooked himself some noodles—with leftover cold chicken wraps and tomato sauce from the fridge, uncorked another bottle of red wine, and sat down on the floor of the apartment with his dinner plate.

The apartment is on the fifteenth floor, not too high. Lester can vaguely see the carriages and pedestrians passing by in the open space downstairs. The neon lights are flickering, making this area of ​​Manhattan, which is extremely lively during the day, dim and dim.A stray cat jumped out of the garbage dump on the corner of the street. The modern girl who got out of the car kicked it hard, and the sharp and miserable wail went straight to the eardrums. Lester frowned and closed the curtains —He just hated it.

Alaska was woken up, it jumped off the sofa with a whimper, followed the aroma of cold chicken into his arms, Lester tore a piece and fed it to its mouth, the wet warmth of the puppy's tongue licked it He couldn't help but chuckle softly.

Susan was always right, those damn lovers were sometimes worse than a dog.Like Dupin Rolland, he wasn't even as ugly as a Sharpie that made you cry.

God forgive his frail and sensitive mother, a woman who absolutely hates the kind of dog that once ruthlessly bit her favorite pair of high heels, and is not afraid to shoot them countless times in her future life .

Maybe God still has a preference for him. Even if he is now alone, at least he has given him a dog, so that he will not be reduced to the point where he will die again because of loneliness.

Lester watched his dog silently, not sure if Carl could really figure out what he was up to—or could, or couldn't, or they couldn't be more determined than time, and finally, in this long parting, they would The past is gone, and then each has its own life. After decades, all of this can be attributed to "adventures when I was young".

That sounds kind of sad, doesn't it.

Lester pursed his lips. He wanted to dispel these untimely pessimistic thoughts, so he reached out and pulled out a hard and heavy oak box from behind the floor lamp. Inside the snow-white foam paper and cotton lay a gray-red piano case—this It was also a gift from Victor. He didn't leave a single word, but he firmly and profoundly reminded himself of his existence—he was willing to wait until Lester finally made a choice.

What lies in the piano box is undoubtedly a good piano, a rare off-white color, with elegant and slim lines like a peerless beauty, and a pure black and slender bow string, which almost seems to have a bit of ecstasy and magic.

Lester put the piano on his shoulders and neck, held up the bowstring and tried a few notes, and the emotions lingering in his mind rushed out like a flood, the piece was like the moonlight on Lake Lucerne, The small boat rowed into the blue waves, and the ripples swayed to produce fine silver lights.

Little Alaska suddenly yelled high and low in the direction of the gate, hesitantly turned around the plate, and finally lost to the charm of the cold chicken rolls, lying down on his side while picking out his favorite food - white fluffy Soaked in tomato juice, Lester would probably beat it for it - while whimpering softly from his throat.

……

"Lester, are you going? The banquet at Baron Brian's house..." Victor couldn't help but speak when Lester was trying on clothes. He could see that the young man was in good condition—it seemed appropriate The rest really helped him forget about that goddamn Hockley for a while, so he really wanted to get the bastard off a little further so he could sneak in.

Lester fastened his bow tie, raised his eyebrows and approached him—hell, his lips looked a little sickly pearly pink, not red enough, but almost kissable, and Victor couldn't help moving Open your eyes and think wildly.

"So, may I know why you stopped me, Victor?"

"... Hockley will go."

Victor almost froze when he realized he had uttered the forbidden word, and he pursed his lips in a desperate expression of refusing to use the ability to speak again—it looked so pitiful, Lester He patted his arm and shrugged his shoulders lightly: "If I could know, do you think I have to draw a line with Hockley in my life, so that I have to keep five hundred kilometers away anytime and anywhere?" distance, huh? Jesus, stop kidding, man, all of New York is only that big!"

Victor's moss-green eyes were full of irritation. "You shouldn't see him."

Lester smiled. "But God the bitch doesn't want me to hide. Excuse me, all the Hockleys go, eh?"

Victor nodded—he knew the purpose of the Hockley family going to the baron's dinner, which made him sicker, Leicester deserved better, or him, or whoever, but it was not the shameless family villain.

"Fuck Hockley!"

"Fuck Hockley."

Victor kicked the table away, and Lester followed him with sincere eyes. To be honest, this evaluation couldn't be more fair.

The author has something to say:

Small theater [five times Carl made a stupid move in front of Victor, and once he finally got smart] Carl is used to sleeping late lately, Lester likes to run around the lake in the morning, and he tries his best to avoid Were called together.

While he was buttering the slices of bread, Lester walked in with Victor.

He scraped the knife on his hand, sticky butter and red blood came out together, and Catherine yelled at May to call the doctor.

Victor squinted his eyes and smiled—his expression became richer and richer, and his vivid eyes always made people feel his emotions: "Lester, you really plan to spend your whole life with such a fool ?”

Lester made a haha, how can he say that Carl is usually very witty, God said that he can't solve this kind of stupidity that pops up from time to time-probably because he didn't care about it when pinching him.