Daily Prompt: Scams

Scams

During regular hours it felt like the train station was pulsating with people. A constant ebb and flow of daily commuters, latchkey kids, country bumpkins, shady strangers, bums and hustlers. All being pumped through the city like deoxygenated blood. Most of the people were just minding their own business, but at any given time it felt like you were being watched. A quick look over the shoulder, a habitual scan, someone checking on you from the corner of their eye. The locals didn't even think about it. To them it was like looking into a rear view mirror.

Richard loved the train station. Granted, mostly an acquired taste, but to him the lingering melange of smelly piss, smoke, and cheap cologne was intoxicating. Could've been a variation of that brain thing you catch from stray cats, but to him it smelled like paradise. At least that's what he kept telling himself, to the point of actually believing it. All the little devils are proud of hell. That sort of thing. He couldn't remember who said it, but somehow it got stuck way back when he was still into reading, before he realized how useless books actually were.

Him and his buddy Alex would split up and roam the departure platforms, stairs, and concrete tunnels like scavening vultures looking for an easy meal. One time they could pass eachother like they've never met before and a moment later they could be seen sharing bummed cigarettes, leaning into some wall while giggling about some oddity. Then they would drop their butts, smoked to the last puff, and grind at them with their shoes. The smiles would vanish from their faces like a traffic light jumping colors and then they'd split, looking for someone like Pete.

Pete was an idiot. Genuinely. Ok, not necessarily like he was hardwired to be dumb, but because of how naive he was. About life, about love, and about how the world worked in general. A sheltered dork who somehow got stuck on some ridiculous notion of becoming a great writer, possibly because some unknown trickster god was having a laugh. Consequently he left for the "big city" and waved his crying mom goodbye, as she grew smaller in the distance (she would keep sobbing for days). Her little boy was the perfect victim, armed with endless amounts of optimism and a stack of cash burning a hole in his pocket. In the meantime the train and it's hypnotic rhythms would gently rock Pete into a dreamless sleep.