He wasn't really overly surprised as he watched his friends take off. Even he knew that the stuff he had just gotten though saying just wasn't something that is said, even by straight men. He had dug a pretty big hole for himself, now that he thought about it, but so desperate was he to convince everyone he wasn't a homosexual he didn't really care.

He just stood there, looking hurt, while everyone except Nicky vacated the area with haste.

"Look, Rod, all I meant was, I'd still be your friend even if you were gay!" Nicky said, trying to repair the situation.

"Nicky...." He turned away. "I want you out of the apartment by the time I get home."

Even though he wasn't looking at him, he could almost feel Nicky's face fall. "You......you're kicking me out....?"

The taller of the two turned back to face him. His hands were balled into fists by his sides, and his face read as hurt and angry, even with the tears rimming his blue eyes. "Go and live in a garbage can for all I care!" He shouted, before turning and running -actually running at a full sprint- away from Nicky.

If the other man had something to say, if he was shouting after him, he didn't hear it. It hurt.

He didn't stop running until he stopped crying to himself. And by then, he was a long way away from Avenue Q. In fact he didn't know where he was. Gently picking his glasses of his nose and rubbing at his face to erase the streaks of tears from his cheeks, he took a deep breath, and looked around.

He had thought he knew New York pretty well, but... he wandered for a little bit, looking for a street sign or something to help him work out where he was. He found one, but..... it was covered in graffiti, so he couldn't read it. ....Not a good sign....

Starting to feel just a might terrified, he headed for the road and walked down it, maybe hoping to find a train station. If he found a station, it didn't matter where he was, he'd be able to get home alright.

"Hey!" Someone shouted, making him freeze. He turned, and there was this group of college age kids heading over to him. "What're you doing, huh?" One of them asked.

"Looking for a train station or a subway station." Was his concise answer. "I went the wrong way and I'm not sure where I am exactly."

One of the kids rambled off something about turf and gangs and he didn't really catch most of it. One phrase he did catch though was the term 'Back District.'

Great. He was in one of THOSE places. The kind that didn't usually appear on a street map because they were just one of those areas you didn't want people going to. The kind of places that Pizza wouldn't deliver to. Greaaaaat.

"You MUST be lost." They started to advance on him. "Hey, got any money on you?"

He stumbled backwards. Oh crap... now what was he supposed to do!?

Before he knew it, he had fallen back onto the pavement, his glasses clattering to the concrete, making a cracking sound that made him wince. Or, maybe he was wincing because one of the kids had just planted their fist into his cheek. One of them knelt down beside him and started reaching for his pockets.
If they took his money he would never be able to get home! He really only had enough for a subway ticket anyway, so, if they took it he was screwed! He gave the kid a shove, making him fall off balance and fall onto his backside. Ah, taking advantage of a precarious pose. "You can't have my money! I need it!" He shouted, grabbing his glasses off the pavement beside him and scrambling to his feet, trying to make a break for it.

He didn't get very far though, as one of the kids grabbed the back of his suit jacket and wrenched him backwards. "Not so fast, Mr fancy suit!" One of them growled.

"OI!!" A voice shouted from somewhere above, and the kids looked up. There was a woman leaning out of a top floor window, glaring down at them. "Knock that off you stupid punks, before I call the police!!"
Surprisingly, they kids actually listened, and bolted.

Panting, he stood, pointing his face towards the woman in the window. "Th-thankyou..." He said to her.
"What the fuck are you doing in this district?" She asked him.
"I.......took a wrong turn. Would you.... be able to tell me how to get to a subway station?"
She pointed. "That way, at the end of the block." She told him.
"Thank you!" And he headed off.

The woman snorted and snapped her window closed. "Dumbass."

He didn't exactly run to the station, but he was walking at a hurried pace the entire way. He wasn't surprised to see that the station was just as horrible looking as the rest of the district. But, it was a station. It meant he could get home. And, it may not have been glamorous, but Avenue Q was at least safe. Safe....

He bought his ticket and jumped on the train, taking a seat near the window. He sighed deeply. He should have known better to just run off without thinking about where he was going. Running wasn't exactly his style anyway, what had he being doi-

Oh. Right.

He groaned, and propped his head up in one hand, resting his elbow on the armrest. He gazed down at his glasses, turning them over again and again in his other hand. The right lens was cracked. Not surprising, as they had connected with the concrete from his head height, which wasn't anything to be sneezed at, being six foot three.

Sighing, he unfolded his glasses and placed them on the bridge of his nose. The crack made everything to the right distorted and fractured, but he hardly noticed. He gazed idly out the window, catching sight of himself in the slightly shiny glass. His cheek was darkening rapidly in a heavy bruise where that kid had hit him.

He hoped at least the newlyweds were having a good evening.