Sunlight streamed in through the curtains. In order to escape it, Matt pulled the blanket up to cover his eyes. Ten more minutes, he wanted to whisper, ten more minutes of this wonderful dream. The dream was so warm and comfortable and smelled vaguely of hamburgers. But the dream faded out and soon Matt found himself fully conscience and fully disappointed.

And confused. Very confused. For one, he was warm. He hasn't been warm in months, not since fall ended and even his Canadian blood couldn't keep him warm. For two, he was seeing blue. He was fairly certain his sweatshirt, the only thing he had to use for a blanket, was red. For three, he was comfortable. This definitely wasn't his usually sleeping spot because he knew cardboard was never this soft, no matter how disillusioned you were.

Slowly he pulled the blanket off his head. A couch, he realized, he was on a couch. He bounced in his seat a bit, testing it. A comfortable couch. If it's been months since he's been warm than it has to have been a year or so since he's been on a couch this comfortable.

The smell of hamburgers from his dream did not fade in his consciousness. Someone was cooking hamburgers and it was only, he looked around and the DVD player signified 8:43, it was only 8:43 AM! Who in their right mind made burgers for breakfast. Part of Matt wanted to go find the culprit and berate him for having such unhealthy eating habits. Another part of him desperately wanted to eat said burger, he figured that was his stomach speaking. Most of him wanted to curl up and go back to sleep and wake up outside with his two neighbors.

He sat cross-legged on the couch and wrapped the blanket securely around him. Who ever took him here stole his shoes. Matt glanced down. They had also taken the majority of his clothes, his sweatshirt was missing along with the shirt he wore under it. The thief kindly replaced it with a long-sleeved shirt with an American flag on it.

Matt let himself fall over to lay down. Unfortunately he overestimated the width of the couch and fell right off it and onto the remote that was lazily left on the ground. The television flickered on and the sounds of cartoons filled the house. Matt panicked, of course the TV was on the highest volume, and if this wasn't the highest volume he didn't know how anyone could listen to it louder. He fumbled for the remote but when he had it in his hands it just had so many buttons. He clicked the first button that resembled a down arrow. He changed the channel, now the news was on.

He studied the remote for a few seconds before common sense kicked in, the power button was usually at the top of the remote. He finally turned the television off only to hear laughter coming from behind him. Matt stiffened and didn't turn around.

"Ya act like you've never seen a TV before!" The voice laughed out, Matt could tell he was eating.

"I-it's been a while." Matt responded, his voice barely at a whisper. The loud man behind him asked for him to speak up so Matt repeated himself a bit louder.

The man walked over and plopped himself down on the couch, "You've been living on the streets long?" He took the remote from Matt and pat him on the head, messing up his hair more than it previously was after his night's sleep.

Being pat on the head made the memories of last night flood back. This man had asked him to his pet. His pet! Like he was a dog or something! Who did he think he was, treating people like animals!

Matt had refused his offer and tried to get away but the man just followed him down the street. He offered to give Matt shelter if he didn't mind cooking or cleaning a bit, if he knew how to that is because if not then he could just hire a housekeeper. Matt remembered that he just kept talking and wouldn't stop no matter how much he tried to interject.

He had asked him to be a pet because he said pets were more loyal than people and that dogs were awesome but he couldn't have one in his apartment. Matt frowned. His homelessness puts him on the same level as dogs now? Oh, cruel world.

Before Matt realized it, the man wasn't following him but he was following the man instead. He led him to his apartment, saying he lived in the penthouse suite and he had the stupidest grin on his face, like Matt was supposed to be impressed by this. Matt figured all his money went towards rent and that's why he ate at McDonald's.

C'mon, what do you say? He asked in this tone that suited little boys better than him. How could he afford this, Matt though, he couldn't be more than eighteen at most. Maybe his parents bought it to make up for something. He knew something about absent parents.

The memory got a bit fuzzy then. He remembered telling the man to shove off, and he remembered trying to storm away. The man said his name was Al something or other, and he grabbed his arm to stop him. He didn't realize how small Matt was hiding behind that oversized sweatshirt and Matt had been pulled to harshly. He fell. Hit his head. Then he woke up here.

Matt felt the side of his head. It was tender and he wondered how he didn't notice that when he woke up. He turned and faced the man, Al something or other.

"I'm not your pet." He muttered softly.

He got a smile and a hamburger in his face in return, "At least stay for breakfast!"