Bayward Street Read Online Free

they were smaller than Eazy. They looked older than a lot of us, which was usually enough to deter any assholes from thinking they could pick on a bunch of kids. Especially when Daisy looks like a little porcelain doll, with her dark hair and pale white skin, and the fact that she was all of five foot nothing.
    Ten minutes and one impromptu pole dance from Layla later, Daisy and the boys jumped off. More people climbed on the train at the station, and that gave me hope that tonight might be a good night.
    As if on cue, my stomach grumbled angrily. Neither Eazy nor Layla took any notice, no doubt their own doing exactly the same thing. One thing we all knew, though, was that no matter what, we’d find some way to get through another day. Together.
    We got off at the next station and set ourselves up.
    Layla placed her thick sweatshirt on the cold concrete floor and laid out her guitar case before sitting down and quietly picking at the strings.
    I sat a few feet away on top of my backpack, and Eazy sat down the line further on a bench seat, looking like he was just another guy waiting for a train. We found that people were more likely to give money to girls than they were to boys. We were more approachable and more able to pull on the heart strings. Boys tended to not like to admit that they were struggling.
    E was one of those kids.
    We were right to take advantage of this Friday night. As Layla filled the station with the beautiful sound of her guitar and voice, people were entranced with the sweet melodic sounds that came from her, and the way her fingers drifted so effortlessly over the strings of her instrument. The girl had some serious talent.
    The flow of people was even busier than usual. We heard comments about Twisted Transistor, an internationally known rock band playing a gig not far from the station we were at. If you didn’t know who they were, you were living under a rock, a large massive fucking rock. They were everywhere, especially when their lead man Ryder Oakley ended up with a Motorcycle Club Princess. When that news story broke, so did hearts all around the world.
    Lucky for us, the concert worked in our favor, because the people were mostly young and pumped up ready for a concert, and seeing Layla playing her guitar just helped to elevate their excitement. I watched in amazement as they stood around Layla, requesting songs and singing along with her as they tossed money into her guitar case.
    Eazy moved a little closer, situating himself in the crowd of young people, so Layla was within reach. A lot of these kids were drunk already, and while they were being generous with their change, some began to get a little too boisterous.
    After about twenty minutes, I could tell Layla was started to wear down and needed to take a break. But the enthusiastic fans chanted for her to keep playing. Eazy caught my eye and we both started to push through the crowd that had gathered.
    “Sorry guys, we need a small intermission,” I called over them as they chanted for her to play something from their favorite band. Most groaned and moved away, heading up the stairs with their excited voices bouncing off the walls as they prepared themselves for what, I don’t doubt, would be an amazing concert.
    “Come on, I gave you money, I want a show,” one guy slurred. He was wearing a Twisted Transistor T-shirt, but with how drunk he was, I could almost guarantee that the security on the door wasn’t going to let him or his buddies inside.
    E stepped in front of Layla, folding his arms across his chest. “You got a show, now get lost.”
    A guy behind them pulled out a fifty dollar note and waved it in the air. My eyes widened. “How bad do you want this money?” he taunted, his body swaying slightly.
    The others chuckled, but Layla, E and I stood our ground, not saying a word.
    “I’ve heard of you homeless kids. Willing to do pretty much anything for a few dollars.” His voice was cold and calculated despite his