Whatever they needed to make ‘em feel like they weren’t alone.
Make it easy, make it real, but never make it about you.
And every time he got a laugh, a genuine smile, or even just a vulnerable look when their guard was down, he felt like hewas doin’ somethin' good, even if it meant he had to keep givin' without ever gettin' anything back.
Momma Paola quit the Astor first for better pay up in Harlem, hourly wage she couldn’t turn down. Ma followed a few months later.
They said on his ma's last night, Andrew Harding climbed to the roof with a bottle of Jack, a pack of Newports, and every bad habit the place ingrained in him. What was one person's rebellion was another's downfall, and for Andrew, the Astor had become the closest thing to the shitty father he never had—raised him wrong and fucked him up good.
Back then, it was easier blamin' a building than blamin' himself or his moms. So he smoked till his throat burned, drank till the skyline blurred, runnin' through half a pack even though he'd never touched a cig before in his life.
He thought if the city wanted him so bad, it could have him.
He didn't know how long that'd last or what would be left of him when it was over. He only knew that if that moment ever did come around, he'd return to the roof when he was done.
The only place where the seconds didn't pass but pause,
while the rest of the city moved on without him.
13 /WILD HORSES
THE ROLLING STONES
// ALLISON - NOV 08, 12:38 AM - THE ASTOR CLOCKHOUSE - ASTOR PLACE, NYC //
We’re on our sides, facing each other.
All of our shit is scattered around us—his glasses next to the champagne bottle, the champagne bottle somewhere near my head, fruit between us, The Rolling Stones’Wild Horsesplaying from Andrew’s phone.
And this guy’s tossing blueberries at my mouth as if I’m going to catch one of them.
Because he‘has faith in me.’
I’ve missed all five.
But he still sets up the next shot,
pulls back,
then stops.
He narrows his eyes,
holding back his smile.
“You’re flinching like I’m throwin’ knives.
“They’re blueberries, Sonny.”
Knives, I can handle.
His tendency to ruin me? Not so much.
“You’re lucky I’m even doing this.
“I don’t open my mouth for just anyone.”
He laughs,
