The Streets- Chapter 8: A Friend

"Oh, Charlie! I've got a surprise for you! Do you know your guitar that you left behind when you went on your journey to the jail?"
He gestured into the car window, where an ebony guitar sat, wrapped inside its worn case. I had thought it was a lost hope... The only thing I had treasured, has been labeled as 'gone' so quickly. I hadn't even made the slightest attempt to regain it... Though this incident seemed to 'mean' to happen. This incident was a lesson- never lose hope in what is most close
'Th-thanks,' I stuttered, beyond happiness. 'Y-you didn't need to go to all this effort,' I lied...
'Trust me, I did. I've heard your music Charlie. You're one to watch!' He winked.
I climbed in the passenger seat to his large Land-Rover and he began to drive away. Away from the police station. Away from this society...
After driving for around 10 minutes, I finally realised that I hadn't the slightest idea of where we were heading. I broke the peaceful silence and asked James, who was sat beside me, rocking his head to the blues music playing through the radio.
'I'm taking you to get some rest! And no, not on the sidewalk. You can stay at my apartment for the night in the spare room.'
Yet again, I was as grateful as a man could be by his extremely kind offer.
'Again, thanks James... You have been helping me out a lot. I'll make sure to repay you.'
He chuckled. 'I'll only be happy with your repayment when you name your award winning song after me,' he said with his signature wink.
I couldn't doubt it, James was doing everything because he wanted to help me. He wasn't trying to butter me up to record with him now. He legitimately wanted to become my friend. And a friend he would certainly become.