Baker Street by Gerry Rafferty
Songfic by NightStrife

Winding your way down on Baker Street,
Light in your head and dead on your feet.
Well, another crazy day, you'll drink the night away
And forget about everything.


Piro slowly plodded along towards his apartment above the MegaGamers store, each step more difficult than the last, until he could no longer summon the strength to lift his feet from the sidewalk. He stared down at them, hands in his pockets, and then slumped against the nearest building.

Piro's head spun as he tried to focus on what had just happened. "I blew it," he thought, as the events flooded back into his mind, "after everything I did when she stuck with me, I finally blew it."

The blur of speeding images slowed and reshaped themselves into something more coherent. The joy at getting his hands on both a copy of the finished version of "Sight" and a PS2 to play it on. The apprehension at connecting Ping to the game, quickly calmed as the EDS took on the physical and mental characteristics of a certain seiyuu through the lead female. And finally, the crash back to reality and the ensuing horror when the mimic met the original.

"If only there was a way to restore to an old save point, to forget all of this and not make the same mistakes again." Piro looked around at all the people passing him as if he didn't exist, their lives excluding him.

This city desert makes you feel so cold;
It's got so many people, but it's got no soul,
And it's taken you so long to find out you were wrong
When you thought it held everything.


Piro felt emptiness gnawing a hole through his gut - a void consuming him from the inside - and shuddered.

"I don't belong with these people. I've been fooling myself, ignoring the signs, hoping that I could make myself belong. That she could help me belong.

"But I've lost her, lost everything I thought I could find here, everything I always thought I could achieve if only I came here to do it."


You used to think that it was so easy, you used to say that it was so easy,
But you're tryin', you're tryin' now.


Piro slid to the ground, his head falling between his knees. All around him people continued their lives, stepping around him but never acknowledging that he was even there. Tears welled up in his eyes.

Another year and then you'd be happy, just one more year and then you'd be happy,
But you're cryin', you're cryin' now.


He sat there, trapped in a place where time left without him - forgetting him, but preventing him from forgetting. One word was discernable between his violent sobs.

"Kimiko."

Way down the street there's a light in his place.
He opens the door; he's got that look on his face,
And he asks you where you've been, you tell him who you've seen,
And you talk about anything.


Gradually, time realized that something wasn't right, and pulled Piro back into the present. He found himself standing, his glasses in his hand, and drawing his sleeve across his face. He looked around to get his bearings, and continued down towards the store, past events drifting in and out of his consciousness.

He dragged himself up the stairs to his apartment, his hand reaching for the door when it swung open. His roommate was standing there, looking him over. Nodding, he stepped aside and let Piro enter before closing the door. There was no reason to ask any questions, simply watching Piro was enough.

Piro took only a couple steps inside before collapsing onto the floor, new tears replacing ones that hadn't yet dried. His roommate knelt beside him.

He's got this dream about buyin' some land.
He's gonna give up the booze and the one night stands,
And then he'll settle down, in a quiet little town,
And forget about everything.


"I warned you," his roommate said at last, standing up and walking to the window. "I told you it could only end in tears."

Piro looked up at him, the name 'Largo' sliding into his mind as he tried to regain his composure. The experience of years of insults kicked in as he replied, "It's not like you did any better."

Largo shook his head and continued to stare out the window. Both knew of his feelings for Piro's coworker and the sense of reality she had given him, how she had helped him cope with the chaos in the city.

The feelings weren't mutual. Largo offered to change; he said he would change for her so she could accept him and let him into her life. No one believed he could really do it, especially Piro, and Largo continually faced more sarcasm than support.

But you know he'll always keep movin', you know he's never gonna stop movin',
'Cause he's rollin', he's the rollin' stone.


Largo sighed, producing a small box from under some computer parts. He pulled some crumpled papers from his pocket, and handed it all to Piro.

Piro looked at it, trying to remember what it was. Finally, he recalled that he kept their savings in that box; all the money he could put aside for their trip home. Largo had just added a few more bills along with a resignation letter - a final paycheck.

Piro counted in his head. "Just enough."

And when you wake up it's a new morning, the sun is shining it's a new morning,
And you're goin', you're goin' home.


Largo nodded, taking everything back and setting it aside.

"Tomorrow," they each thought, "tomorrow I'll be leaving all of this behind."

Code is poetry. Valid XHTML and CSS.

All content copyright their respective authors | Bug squashing by Skuld-sama | Graciously hosted by _Quinn ­ | cwdb codebase by Alan J Castonguay

Megatokyo Writer's Archive
http://cwdb.azaphrael.org/view/1131