Chapter 11

Zine dragged himself up the stairs of his apartment building. He went through his door and made sure to lock it behind him, thinking of that stalker guy.

His keys jangled, and he threw them on his tiny kitchen counter. Going to his room, he found his backpack, digging inside he pulled out his black shorts and shirt with large holes in the back.

He took off his gloves, and changed into his sleepwear. Flopping face first onto his bed, he gently let his wings out through the shirts holes, groaning in pain as his muscles unlocked.

He let his tail relax and unwrap, draping slightly off the bed. They always hurt when he actually got a chance to relax them. He slowly lifted his tail, the stiffness of it ached. Slowly he flicked it around trying to work out the pain.

He gently flapped his wings, stretching them out. His neck ached, his whole body ached, he was hungry, and tired. He needed to eat soon or he was going to end up going into a coma again.

He either needed to eat a lot, or sleep a lot. If he ate enough, he barely ever had to sleep, but if he didn't eat enough, he would start hibernating. It had helped him survive in the rat basement when he was younger, since his foster mother often forgot about him down there.

The pain in his wings and tail lessened a bit, but still hurt. The sun shined through his windows blinds, causing his pupils to change into slits.

Groaning, he checked his phone, looking at the time, 7:24am, the clocked flashed.

He sighed, he needed to take a shower before the building turned off the hot water, since he had heard it would be off at 9.

He rolled off the bed, landing on his feet. Going to one of his boxes he pulled out his dress clothes. A white button shirt, black pants, white belt, and black dress jacket. He laid them out on the bed.

He would wear them for his interview at the coffee shop, and when he met with the public school’s principal. He dug through another box and pulled out a towel.

He left his room and went into the bathroom, starting the shower. He put the towel on the counter by the shower, where he could reach, then he stripped.

Stepping inside the warm water, he sighed as it hit his wings and back. He moved his tail into the water and started preening his wings with his fingers, pulling out bad feathers. He picked up his mint shampoo, grateful he had unpacked it earlier, and massaged it into his scalp.

Rinsing his head, he started rubbing the soap into his wings also. Lifting his face into the water he rubbed his nose. He looked down at his hands, and grew his claws out.

Flexing his fingers, he lifted his wings over his head, blocking the water out, and watched as the soap dripped off.

What am I going to do? He thought.

A wave of hopelessness crashed down on him.

I'm still considered a child in society's eyes, and I still feel like one too. Insecurities, and doubt hover over me ready to stab into me with their logic.

What if I don't get the coffee shop job? What if I mess up in front of the public school’s principal somehow and fuck everything up? I have money, but I don't know, this just doesn't feel real.

He crouched in the shower, letting the warm water hit his head. I don't feel ready, or able to be alone in the world. I was never close to any of my foster parents nor did I make many friends.

He had acquaintances, but it was mostly people from work, or gang members on the street. But at least they were there, they existed, and he didn't have to make adult choices like bills, or have the pressure of being responsible for everything he would or wouldn't do.

Usually, the government, or his foster parent would take care of it before he even know there was a problem. Yes, he dealt with abuse, and a lot of crazy stuff, but suddenly by moving out on his own, all of his problems changed.

He grew up, learning how to deal with terrible foster parents, but now he doesn't have to deal with it anymore. It's terrifying, it's liberating, it's lonely, it's wonderful, it's strange, it's quiet, it's beautiful, it's unnerving, it's worth it.

But, it's also like a new weight has been pressed onto his shoulders, and he doesn't know what to do about it.

He took a breath, and stood up, and turning off the shower, he dried himself ​off and changed back into his sleep wear.

It's easy Zine, just don't think about it, he told himself.

He left the bathroom, and went back into his room, changing once more into his street clothes.

Leggings, black sweater, and boots. Shoving his sunglasses on, he grabbed​ some more of the money he had won last night.

Food, now, is all he thought.

He grabbed his keys off the kitchen counter, and re-locked his apartment door. Leaving the building, he ran across the street to the sub shop on the corner.

He gently opened the door, and went inside. Ding! A little bell on the door announced his arrival. The shop smelled like fresh bread and mayo.

His stomach felt hollow, and started hurting as he smelled the delicious scent. Zine looked around the tiny shop, finding the counter he was supposed to order at, he cautiously approached.

As he stood in front of the counter, a door behind it swung open, startling him. A tall young man came out from the back.

“Hello! I hope you're having a good morning, what can I get for you?”

“Um…. can I please get a foot long French bread sandwich?” Zine mumbled.

“Sure!” the man replied.

He took out the bread and a knife, carefully cutting it.

The man started preparing the counter, pulling up section of glass and exposing meats, cheeses, vegetables, and condiments. Zine’s mouth watered.

“What would you like on it?” The man asked.

“Uh… Zine murmured, can I get salami, pepperoni, American cheese, and mayo?”

“Alright, that will be $5.50.” The man finished wrapping the sandwich up, and Zine paid and left the shop.

He ran across the street, mouth watering all the way. After he made it inside his apartment, he ran into the kitchen, and tore open the package. He devoured his meal over the kitchen counter.

“Mhhh, Damn that's good.” He sighed.

He cleaned up the mess, and took off his sweater. It was not able to hold in any more heat anyway. He turned on his internal heat regulator, and felt a tiny flame lick his lip.

He had a strange way of regulating his body's temperature. To cool down he could crystalize water inside his body and breathe out a very cold air that could crystalize moisture.

To warm up, he used a strange liquid inside his mouth that would light a small flame by using his body's nerve endings and travel down his throat.

If he was careful, he could blow some flames outside of his mouth by making enough liquid on his tongue. Zine went into the bathroom, and looked in the mirror.

He parted his mouth slightly, and another flame licked his upper lip. It was kind of cool, in a weird way.

He extinguished the tiny fire by crushing the flames inside his mouth with his tongue.

But he could still feel the fire liquid sliding down the inside of his throat, and throughout his body, warming him up again. He pulled out his toothbrush and paste. He carefully cleaned out his mouth and any liquid that remained.

“Minty fresh.” He laughed.