BANG
...
...
He looked at his companion's body, now with another cartridge lodged in it, specifically, in his skull. The storm that was happening really came in handy. Thunder was constantly making itself present, which facilitated the execution of the plan.
He stashed the gun in his pants and began dragging the corpse further into the alley.
He never stopped to think about how heavy Daniel could be, even though he appeared relatively thinner than he actually was. Must be the muscles, for sure.
"Carlos."
The man then turned to where the voice originated.
"Philip."
"So, is that the stiff?" he said, pointing to the body.
"That's him."
"Okay, so I get rid of him and-"
"I owe you a free defense; I remember what we talked about," Carlos interrupted, knowing where this was going.
"Impolite..."
"Well, I'll be going."
"Before you go, come to my car, I need to explain some things."
Carlos then followed his "accomplice." He's a cop, so he must have a plan for situations like this. Both carried the body to a pickup truck nearby. Probably Philip's.
"First..." Philip began. "I talked to everyone inside the bar, well, everyone worthy of testimony. You left right after the fight, and he stayed at the bar to drown his sorrows. He doesn't handle drinks well and got out of control. Someone tried to rob him, and he reacted, taking two shots."
"So, the thief tried to take the body in this truck but was discovered. Rain, darkness, couldn't see the face, suspect on the run," Carlos concluded with his own line of reasoning.
"A great story. Any alibi of yours that I can use?"
"My car has brake disc issues, just say that. My car is in the shop; I took a bus to go there and was in traffic the whole time."
"Perfect. I'll take care of the rest. Good luck."
And with that, Carlos headed to the nearest bus stop to fulfill his "alibi." Nothing abnormal. The rainy day was good on this occasion because it made many pedestrians take shelter at bus stops, which would give him some witnesses.
Truth be told, very few people would actually suspect that he had killed Daniel. Recent events in his life were also convenient. Losing his job, fighting in illegal clubs, and having issues with alcohol? Plus a short fuse? The perfect recipe for a delinquent, at least in the eyes of the ignorant public.
Not in the sense of being rude to each other, but rather not having the context for why Connor turned out the way he did.
Carlos is a mildly renowned lawyer with a great track record of well-resolved cases. His life is stable. The house he lives in needs renovations, but no one would connect one point to the other. He hopes for that, at least.
He finally caught the bus where his route passed by the workshop where his car would be. The journey was relatively congested, more due to the rain than the number of vehicles. Carlos judged the time needed to reach the workshop as "sufficient to convince."
Arriving at the workshop, he was greeted by one of the mechanics.
"Carlos! Welcome!"
"Túlio," Carlos replied.
"The car is over there," pointing to the vehicle in question.
"Tell me, how was the process?"
"Well, the brake pads were quite worn, so we removed them to replace them with new ones, but then we saw that even the discs were kind of bad, so we replaced those too," explained the mechanic.
Typical of mechanics. You ask them to change a simple part, like an air conditioning filter, and they decide to take the initiative to change the entire ECU and charge a "fair price."
"What do you mean?" was all he managed to respond.
"Look here."
The mechanic pulls a small cart with the car's original brake disc. Carlos may not understand much about automotive parts, but he knew that was his part. The piece itself had some light cracks and signs of a kind of dent in the body.
"You must have hit some really deep potholes. The suspension took most of the impact, but these cracks and dents in the brake disc would have opened up if we didn't replace it."
"Oh, must have been one of my trips to jail to see my clients. If I didn't replace it, what would have happened?" he asked out of curiosity. Expenses had to be calculated.
"It would be something like if the CV joint broke, the wheel would come off, taking the tire onto the road, and the car to the ground. Then it's just the tow truck to save you," he explained, shrugging in the last sentence.
Alright, that was a huge loss.
"How much is it?"
"Well, since you're a lawyer, I'll give you a discount. It would be $850.00, but I'll only charge $470.00. How do you want to pay?"
"Cash," he said, handing over some bills.
"Perfect. Here are the keys."
And with that, Carlos took his vehicle home. He had to prepare for the police interrogations that would come his way. It wouldn't be too difficult. He would stay calm and stick to the story he and Philip had agreed upon.
----------------------------------------
It's been 3 days.
As Carlos predicted, the police interrogated him, but the investigation bore no fruit. An excellent result for him. He decided to give his house a makeover, cleaning most of the rooms and getting rid of most things. He just had to do it at long intervals to avoid suspicion.
The whole process took 3 weeks.
Carlos started making chicken fillets for lunch. A simple and nutritious meal to have before going to work. Just as he was eating, he grabbed his phone. It started ringing. An unknown number?
He let the phone ring for another 5 seconds before answering.
"Hello?"
"Mr. Carlos?" An old and tired voice asked.
"Who's speaking?"
"I am one of the representatives of the group of people with whom you did business once."
"Uh-huh..." He said nonchalantly.
"I will be coming to your residence and arranging for the payment due for your actions. Wait for me."
"Wait, what?"
Call ended.
"Great."
Whoever it was, they were going to visit him.
*KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK*
And it was quite fast...
Carlos rolled his eyes, went to look through the window; it was a tall man around 6'3" but despite that, he should weigh around 180-200 pounds, bald with green eyes, wearing a suit but without the blazer. He had a friendly face despite the intimidating stature.
Carlos recognized the man he was supposed to be and opened the door.
"Greetings, Mr. Carlos, sorry for my late arrival."
"Oh... Uh... Hi?"
Carlos was surprised by the politeness coming from the guy but remained silent.
"Could I possibly come in? It's about to start raining."
"Oh sure, no problem."
How long is this rainy weather going to continue?
Both entered the house, and the man carefully observed the deplorable state of the house but also saw some cardboard boxes here and there, so he thought maybe it was for sale, renovation, or something of the sort.
Carlos sits on the sofa while the Man stands.
"The house is well-kept. Despite the exterior leaving something to be desired, the inside is cozy enough."
Carlos ignored the comment.
"Well, tell me, am I in or out?"
"You have fulfilled your part of the deal; I am absolutely sure you will be among our companions in approximately 3 days."
Carlos sighs in relief. He looked at the ceiling and saw the coffee stain that was there. He remembered the incident instantly. He was discussing illegal fights with Daniel, just over a month after getting out of prison. He was discussing it innocently but wanted to put the project into action.
FLASHBACK
"So, what do you think?"
"Fuck off, Carlos."
Carlos starts laughing so hard that he spills his coffee from the table, and while cleaning it up, he managed to spill the ENTIRE bottle of coffee on the ceiling. After cleaning all of that, Daniel asked how they were going to make money just by gathering some people here and there.
"If we participate in some fights in some Family or Mafia clubs, we can gain notoriety, thus being able to join them, but we have to be careful not to win a fight we shouldn't."
"Seriously? Where did you get that from? A movie?"
"Do you want to eat Cream Cookies until the day you kick the bucket or have Chicken Parmesan?"
"...", He couldn't say anything, he missed Chicken Parmesan.
"There you go."
END OF FLASHBACK
Carlos stares at the Man again.
"As you have already received the news that you will join us, I will deliver this to you."
The Man shows a small envelope, as if it had a book inside. Carlos reaches out to take it, but the Man takes it away before he can.
"I must congratulate you for getting rid of the murder of your friend; you must have very good connections for such an accomplishment. Do not waste this chance, Mr. Carlos."
After taking the envelope, the Man says goodbye and leaves the house. Carlos opens the envelope and almost has a heart attack with the things in its contents.
The first thing was a letter with a red Taurus seal, reaffirming what the big guy said. The second thing was a stack of money that amounted to $40,000.00. Enough to pay the bills of the house and settle the debts in Carlos's name, and even make the first payment for his sister's treatment. The last thing was a 90% discount coupon for the purchase of formal wear at Taurus Clothin'.
Formal wear? No, an organized mafia.
Carlos contacted various gangs, families, and mafias during Daniel's fights, promising favors, alibis, drinks, money, investment, and more. One of the gangs, famous for its tradition and respect, showed interest in receiving the duo. This gang was Taurinus, a gang with just over 20 members, but all with enough contacts to increase that number considerably.
They had all kinds of businesses:
Fights, arms trafficking, protection, theft, vehicles, cattle breeding, farms, and more. They only didn't deal with drugs, which was something they were against.
Taurinus gained a considerable space and is very selective with its recruits. They saw potential in Carlos right after he showed connections in basically all of Hellenz, whether in normal places like bakeries, markets, and pharmacies, or in more important places like hospitals, shopping centers, and now, the police.
One day, Carlos was approached about joining Taurinus. For this to be done, he would have to do 3 things.
1 - Have a draw in Daniel's fights.
2 - Win a fight in Taurinus's rival gang, the Vancrsh gang, a German gang. (Which was honestly quite easy.)
3 - Kill Daniel in his last fight, which he should lose.
The reason for each was quite simple. The first was for money to be made with both sides losing, thus making the House receive all the bets.
The second was to rub salt in the wound of the rival gang, which was recovering from a police attack, thus reducing morale.
The last was to tie up loose ends. Since they doubted that Daniel would really continue if they knew he was fighting for criminals.
The 3 days pass, and Carlos gets ready with the most decent clothes he could find. A shirt with a red collar, checkered brown pants, and walking shoes. It was what he had. He took his car and went to Taurus Clothin'. However, the journey took a little longer; it wasn't in his neighborhood, so he had to take the main highway to get to the location.
Arriving, he found a Tailor. It was what he imagined, after all, the name didn't indicate much else. The store itself was very flashy and respectable, with antique lamps but with modern care, vibrant and eye-catching paintings on the outside with mannequins in the windows with all kinds of clothes, be they formal, festive, business, and the like.
The red and black painting gave a perfect highlight and contrast to the store. Truly a job done by a professional, and as Carlos has knowledge about construction and infrastructure, he knew that it cost a small fortune.
Carlos entered the Tailor and was immediately greeted by a man. Medium stature but robust and strong. Slightly advanced age, enough to be called old. You don't need much research to realize he's Irish. The accent gave it away a lot. He was wearing a black suit with red details, matching the store.
"Hello, dear customer! What may I assist you with?"
Yeah, this whole etiquette is quite difficult to keep up with. Or process. It's confusing...
He took a deep breath, but instead of speaking, he showed the discount coupon.
"Oh yes! Mr. Carlos, if I'm not mistaken... Well, welcome to Taurinus. Please, follow me." The old man said with great enthusiasm.
Carlos walked with the man through the store, entered the back where there were 3 suits.
"Please, feel free. But keep in mind it's a discount coupon; I still need income."
"Don't worry. How much do suits here usually cost?"
"The three available for you are around $5,000. But with the discount coupon, only $500 will be necessary."
Information obtained: Suits have already been reserved for him, even without taking measurements... And their price is reasonable, even at full price. Hmm…
Carlos took $500 from his envelope and handed it to the man.
"Thank you very much! Oh, since we're going to work together, you should at least know my name; I'm Finn Dotmún."
"Pleasure to meet you, Mr. Finn. Wait, work tog-"
*DING*
The sound of the shop's entrance bell rings.
"Oops! I'll leave you to the suits; I have clients to attend to."
He said, heading towards the store's entrance to receive whoever may have arrived. Carlos is confused, such a kind and polite man working in a criminal group.
The world is strange... But then again, he is a lawyer working with criminals. He couldn't demand something he wasn't even fulfilling.
He looked at the suits.
The first one was the same as Finn's. Black with red details. To be more specific, the blazer, pants, and shoes are black, the shirt underneath is made with a blend of red and wine, giving a beautiful contrast. The tie can be white or black, according to the person's preference.
He decided to look at the second suit.
The second one was a wine-colored suit with high-relief sword emblems. White details like the shirt and tie. The shoe remained black but with gray laces.
The third one was a complete gray suit, white shirt, and red tie. A fairly common suit, by the way.
Exactly Carlos's style.
After putting on the suit (which, by the way, had his exact measurements), Finn appeared with other customers, showing other high-quality suits.
"I see you've made your choice, Mr. Carlos."
"Yes, I liked this simpler model." He said, looking at himself in the mirror to better evaluate the suit.
"Since it's like that, could you please wait in the main hall, sir?"
"Main hall?"
"My boss would like to talk to you, but he hasn't arrived yet," the Tailor explained.
"Sure... I guess."
Finn pointed to the staircase near the service counter that led to the second floor. This, in turn, was incredibly well-kept. He had no idea what material the stairs' carpet was made of, but it added charm to the place.
The smell of coffee and treats from a pastry shop marked its presence in the air, giving a cozy feeling. He sat at one of the available tables and, out of curiosity, picked up the menu on the table.
Flipping through it slowly, he was somewhat amazed at the variety of foreign sweets on the menu. There was even Minestrone, something he was almost certain shouldn't be in a pastry shop.
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
"Good morning, sir, have you chosen something?"
"A waitress outfit?", Carlos thought.
"I was looking at the menu, but I haven't decided what to eat yet. Any recommendations?", He said it before the silence got awkward.
"It depends on whether you'd like just a snack or something more substantial, but I would recommend Quindins and a Romeo and Juliet Tapioca. For a drink, coffee or tea. What do you think?"
A very detailed recommendation for someone who didn't know the customer's preferences.
"That sounds good."
And with that, Carlos waited not only for whoever was going to talk to him but also for this meal. He didn't even know what Tapioca was, but by the way it was described, it must be delicious. Usually, things with Minas cheese and guava are always good.
Carlos spotted a man in his forties heading toward his table. He was wearing a suit without a blazer, but a red jacket, a shirt with sleeves rolled up to his wrists, and in his hands, a very thick cigar. A mustache that should be English and a haircut worthy of a Hollywood villain.
In his analysis, someone important was coming.
Speaking of the devil, he sat in front of him and stared at him for a while before deciding to pick up his phone. He had no idea what he could be doing on it, but it seemed important.
"Carlos Henrique. 28 years old, graduated in law, won more than 20 cases as a defense attorney, undefeated in at least 7 consecutive cases. Public defender for at least 3 years before opening his own law firm, using unconventional techniques to secure an 'innocent' verdict. Long-time friend of Daniel Ashman and brother of Serenity Henrique. Did I get something wrong?"
Okay... That was VERY specific.
"No...?" Carlos replied/asked.
The man nods to himself and continues.
"After a romantic relationship between one of your clients, namely the aforementioned Daniel, with your sister, you two became friends—no, colleagues. You helped him rehabilitate into society while your sister found a relationship. After a few days, Jack Ashman convinces his grandson, Daniel, to participate in training with the aim of entering professional boxing."
"Alright..." Carlos said just to say something.
"However, even before the first semi-professional fight, the couple is robbed. Daniel tries to protect Serenity and succeeds. In the end, both try to chase the thief only to be hit by three vehicles that were racing not far from the scene."
Carlos stayed silent. What is this guy doing? He KNOWS everything that happened; he doesn't need to be reminded. Especially wrongly reminded of the events, since that's not what happened.
"Can you get to the point? Don't tell me you're going to want to later read the story of your life to me, right?" Carlos said with a tired and neutral voice.
The man just stares at him, puts down his phone, and continues to speak. Now maintaining eye contact.
"You, then, in the midst of the desperation to help pay for your sister's medical treatment due to the accident, look for easy ways to make money. We at Taurus see your potential and help gather idiots with enough money to spend on barbarians beating the shit out of each other."
"Right." He's irritated.
"Here's your meal!" The waitress appeared.
"Thank you."
Carlos takes a sip of his tea. He closes his eyes and lets out a long sigh.
"Who are you?" He asked.
"I am just one of many trusted members of my boss."
He then hands over a photo that was taken with a Polaroid. The photo had several people with the same style of Taurus Clothin' suits.
"So, I assume you're some higher-up boss?"
"Undoubtedly."
"What's that word?"
"Your business idea has been very profitable for our community. You have a keen eye for emerging opportunities but can also create your own. Most of our members agree with your vision", The man ignores his question.
"I am honored to hear that.", Carlos said just for the sake of it.
Carlos started to eat the Tapioca. It was really delicious. It's a white dough, similar to a gum, heated in a frying pan, filled with cheese and guava. It has the right amount of salt; the cheese balances both the sweetness of the guava and the salt of the dough. Ideal to have with tea.
"I have their authorization to say that you are officially a new member of Taurus. You will still be a recruit, but at least you can continue your 'Fight Clubs.' Some of ours have already said they want to join this endeavor."
"You will fulfill your part and help my sister, right?" Carlos asked, bitterness in his voice.
"We may be criminals, but we have honor. We will help Mrs. Serenety in the best way possible. She should come out of her vegetative state in the next few days."
Carlos breathed a sigh of relief. His biggest concern was whether he would see her walking and conscious again. With this news, maybe he can sleep peacefully.
"We've already set up a place where you can continue this source of income. We have a simple gym on the outskirts. The place is reserved for you; just ask for Franklin," he said, handing over a small piece of paper.
A phone number.
"I believe that with your connections and experience in the area, you should be able to handle things on your own," he concluded, getting up and heading toward the glass display with cakes.
Okay, so he has a gym on the outskirts. He knew the place; it was basically a slum where few people were honest. He couldn't judge anyone else, as he himself tossed his honesty in the trash.
Oh well.
Finished his meal and headed to that gym. His car was now fixed and with a full tank. The few who looked at the car would see a clear discrepancy between the driver's attire and the vehicle used. But nothing that would change the world.
Generally, people who wear suits are three things: successful criminals, lawyers, or detectives. And the less involved with those people, the better. Lawyers are not well-regarded by society, as they tend to either not try to defend their clients or try to free precisely those who should be imprisoned. Very few are genuinely true in their defenses.
Ace attorneys, huh…
…
…
"Why do I feel like I referenced something?"
----------------------------------------
After driving for 10 minutes, there was the gym. It didn't even have a name, the paint left much to be desired, the exterior was not inviting at all... If someone is training here, either they don't care about appearances or don't have money.
Carlos opens the gym door. Inside, there were (along with a lot of dust) very basic gym equipment. Light barbells, some dumbbells, a single punching bag... The only thing slightly well-preserved was the ring. Four corners, all ropes, poor wood, but it did the job.
"Franklin?" Carlos shouted.
"Me!" came a response.
From one of the changing rooms came a teenager who must be in the final year of high school. Straight but short hair. Caucasian, around 5'6" tall, slightly overweight, blue eyes, and clothes worthy of an American. Carlos judged that he probably bought branded clothes but neglected basic things at home.
A reality he wasn't that far from, either.
"Who are you?" Franklin asked.
"Carlos Henrique."
"My boss, then," the boy said, wiping sweat from his forehead.
"Do you work here?"
"They asked me to help clean, in exchange for some change. I'm not on the payroll or anything," he explained.
"You just started cleaning now?"
"Was it that obvious...?" Defeated, he asked.
"Don't worry. Are you alone? Is there no one else here besides you?"
"There were two others. They went to get some brooms just before you arrived."
Carlos nodded approvingly.
They both took charge of cleaning the place as quickly as possible. They talked during the cleaning. Franklin lives in the neighborhood, and this is an opportunity to earn money and pay for some things at home. Carlos also learned that the boy's family consists of him and his mother. His mother works almost all day, and the boy wanted to help in some way.
It's a noble reason with modest and honest work. Carlos respected the boy. He also revealed some details about himself that weren't too distant from the public. Lawyer, hospitalized sister, recently deceased friend... And now this gym.
The other employees arrived, and cleaning became much faster. They organized where the equipment would be, installed new electrical wiring, replaced incandescent bulbs with LED bulbs, and finally, assigned various tasks for when the gym opened.
Franklin would be in charge of attending to clients and cleaning when closing.
The other two employees, one a PE teacher and the other an experienced electrician in construction, would be responsible for renovating the interior and exterior, as well as assisting clients with their exercises.
Carlos would help train those who wanted to fight and make money. Basically, that's the reason the gym is being opened in the first place.
With all this finished, Carlos paid the employees and headed home. Before he could leave, someone in a suit was waiting for him.
"Mr. Carlos."
"Sir."
"I see everything is going according to plan," he said, looking inside the gym.
"Not exactly. There's still painting the outside, putting up a sign, buying decent materials, and finding willing athletes. Frustrating," he sighed.
"We're confident you'll find a solution. Anyway, I came to deliver this."
A pistol...
"There's no other way, is there?"
"Indeed. We have numerous enemies."
"Alright. I'm going home, need a ride?" Carlos offered.
"No need. Farewell, Mr. Carlos."
"This is going to be a hassle, but I hope it all works out."
----------------------------------------
*BEEP*
*BEEP*
*BEEP*
"I don't recognize this ceiling."
Opening her eyes, she looked at the ceiling. White, cracked, with little natural light. She glanced to the side, trying to locate the source of the strange noise. A window and an electrocardiogram. Several needles in her arm next to a bag of saline.
Looking to the other side, a door, cabinets with probably medications, and a nurse. She seemed shocked for some reason. Did she see something strange? Was she acting strange? Or did she do something wrong?
Whatever the reason, she's not here anymore. She ran out, shouting for someone. It was confusing, but okay. She looked at her body. Covered with a thin blanket and a medical gown. It almost looked like one from a TV series she watched with Daniel. She chuckled lightly.
"Daniel, hehehe."
...
"Daniel?"
...
"Daniel?"
No. It can't be. Where is he? Where is SHE? What happened that day? Is everyone okay? Where is Carlos? Why is she in the hospital? How much time has passed?
The earlier nurse returned with a doctor. He's also somewhat perplexed, but not as much as the other woman.
"The surgery was successful; move her to the recovery room. We need to free up this room for future patients," the doctor ordered.
"Of course."
They hurriedly started moving her. The man made a call, probably to her family? Or to reserve a room? There was no way to know. They entered an elevator and descended. She knew because her body felt lighter in the elevator.
They entered another room, much more cozy. Walls with more colors and even a TV. Still confused, but just the fact that it's not constant white helped alleviate some confusion.
After being settled, the nurse raised the front of the mattress, making her sit instead of lying down.
"Can you hear me?" she asked.
"Yes, I can."
"What's your name?"
"Serenity Henrique."
"Your age?"
"24 years."
"How many fingers here?" Showing three fingers.
"Three? What happened?"
The nurse didn't respond immediately. From the answers, she had no serious head injury. Lucid enough to answer questions and ask her own.
"Uh... Miss?"
"You had a car accident, but you survived. You were in a coma for 4 months before the surgery."
"Surgery!?" Concern took over.
"It was successful, don't worry. Our surgeon will provide details, but I need you to stay calm. We're calling your brother."
"And Daniel? Is he okay?"
"The young man with you survived, don't worry."
Now, that's good news. If no one died, then everything is okay.
"At the moment, just wait. I'll be back with something for you to eat."
Serenity smiled in response.
She had no idea what happened during this time. She only remembers the accident, and even then, with few details. But it's okay. She'll be home soon and can see her family. Daniel is okay, so she'll see him soon too.
She closed her eyes to rest her mind, at least a little
----------------------------------------
Several weeks had passed since Serenity's awakening. It was a simple day at the academy. Some clients showed up, but still no worthy athletes. Not for lack of searching; it's just difficult to find someone with great potential in the community.
Daniel had potential despite his flaws. Surprisingly skilled, he could adapt to any situation, even if his adaptation often involved 'hitting harder.' Though stubborn, he could analyze an opponent, studying their fighting style—a trait of a good fighter.
"So, boss, how was it... with your sister?" Franklin asked, somewhat hesitantly.
Carlos organized the academy paperwork, a task he was accustomed to. Answering Franklin wasn't difficult; the challenge was recalling what happened. Serenity, being emotive, reacted poorly to the events (in which Carlos lied to cover the truth).
Carlos fears her depression, especially after the loss of her parents. What irks Serenity more is not just that he died, but that Daniel died post-accident, in a rather cowardly manner. Despite disapproving of their money-making methods, seeing the bills and legal issues (especially Carlos's law firm) softened her judgment.
She's devastated. In just over four months, almost everything she valued was gone or forcibly taken away. Needing solitude, not having received medical clearance was convenient for Carlos.
"Bad," he replied, leaving some parts concealed.
Franklin started cleaning the lockers for potential clients.
"I know it's none of my business, but is she okay?" he asked, genuinely concerned.
"I have no idea. We've been through a lot, but I've never seen her react like this..."
Awkward silence.
The phone rang, and Carlos swiftly answered.
"Buffalo Gym, good afternoon."
"Hello, I wanted to know how things work there to learn to fight," a man's voice said.
"Huh... Well, the enrollment for new students is $80 per month, plus $20 for using the gym."
"Alright. What days is it open?" he sounded pleased.
"Every Monday, Wednesday, and Friday."
"I'll be there tomorrow then. See you."
Carlos hung up the phone. The conversation was... interesting. Basic information and a straight-to-the-point talk. He could get used to that. It's a pity people usually want to tell the story of their lives before stating what they want.
The past few days are evidence of that. Carlos met several other Taurus members who never stopped talking about their deals, businesses, families, problems, and all sorts of idle chatter that comes from someone who doesn't know how to cut to the chase.
He had to play the part for those higher in the hierarchy, but HOLY CHRIST, it was unbearable to be around these people. The money was great despite the drawbacks and discomfort.
He managed to pay for the house renovation but sold it shortly after. Love it or leave it. And he chose to leave it. Bought another, much better house for a more reasonable price. Serenity is about to move to this new address. She would need to buy clothes and various other essential things, but anyway. Everything in its own time.
His law business also proved more complicated as he had to defend other gang members. It wasn't difficult, but it was annoying that almost every day brought a new case. This earned him a new streak of undefeated defenses and a lot of headaches.
"I'm heading home, Chief Carlos. I have to make dinner," Franklin announced.
"You can go; I'll close up before leaving."
Franklin left without responding.
He didn't know who his boss was, just that he had bought ownership of this gym. Apparently, he must work with these things, given that various men in suits visited him periodically. It was nice working for Carlos. Leaving the outskirts where robberies were frequent for an environment where everyone just wanted to improve and engage in a common sport.
Maybe he could learn this thing called boxing?
No, no, he can't even hurt a fly, let alone punch someone...
Anyway, he caught the first bus he could to get back home. The road had several potholes, and the bus's horrible suspension didn't make the short trip any more comfortable. Also, of course, the incredibly ignorant people on the bus who don't understand the meaning of "deodorant."
He arrived at the town square and ran uphill, reaching an alley with stairs. Stairs that led even further down to many, MANY houses side by side. If one wall broke, three houses would be invaded.
He entered his house, small and modest. It was more of a tight space than a house, with narrow hallways and walls just plastered. He climbed the stairs leading to the kitchen and opened the fridge. Spaghetti with grated cheese would be the dish for the night.
It's not difficult to make. Cook the pasta in water and oil, prepare the tomato sauce with salt, garlic, and onions, and sprinkle the grated cheese on top.
A simple and tasty meal. At least for his taste.
When he finished making the spaghetti, his mother appeared. A tall woman with gray hair that reached her waist, likely from stress. Blue eyes sunken from lack of sleep. She was wearing a simple but eye-catching dress.
"Hi, Mom."
"Hi, sweetie."
The smell of spaghetti filled the kitchen air. His mother began preparing for a quick shower before eating.
Franklin served the dishes carefully to avoid accidentally breaking them. He put away the things in his pocket in a drawer under the TV in the kitchen, remembering to leave some of the money he earned at home for future emergencies.
Not long after, his mother appeared, wearing sweatpants, a shirt that clearly wasn't hers because it was too big, and a towel wrapped around her hair.
"How was your day, son?" She said, sitting at the table.
"Normal. I worked at the gym all day. The boss has family issues. His sister just woke up from the hospital and found out her boyfriend died in a robbery," he replied, taking a few forkfuls of the plate.
"Horrible thing! I hope they're both okay."
"Me too. He's nice. There are always people talking to him both on the phone and at the gym." Franklin lightened the tense atmosphere.
"You said he's like a contractor?"
"Businessman," he corrected. "Besides, he also has a law office. He's the boss there too."
"Okay then. I thought he'd be one of those suit-wearing mobsters. I hope he's not a Delvi lawyer or something."
"You didn't just say 'Delvi,' did you?"
"... no..."
A brief silence is interrupted by Franklin's hysterical laughter. The mistake was so spontaneous that he couldn't hold it in. After all, "Delvi"? They say the Devil has many faces, but it's the first time he's heard a name like that.
"Well, what about your school? How's it going?" She's obviously trying to change the subject.
"We just... fin... ish... ed... this... bimes... ter... Hehehehehe." He responded, gradually pulling air into his lungs, ending with a laugh.
"And when will your grades come in?"
"Probably next weekend", He managed to say without laughing.
"Perfect."
Both finished eating the spaghetti. Franklin organized his things to go to school while his mother went to sleep.
Franklin is 15 years old. He's in the first year of high school. Being completely honest with himself, he barely understood 2% of what was being said in class. He was fortunate not to have taken the full-day schedule, allowing him to work after school. Earning money was much more rewarding than knowing what the result of x + y = 2 is.
After all, not even these subjects would be used in the vast majority of jobs he could apply for. And also, he didn't want a "profession"; a job was good enough. Who knows, maybe he could get a recommendation from the gym to work at a grocery store? Become a manager? Much better than going to college and studying for a minimum of 4 years to get the same job he could just work.
Cheers to capitalism.
----------------------------------------
The next day, Franklin woke up at 6 in the morning. He had already slept in his uniform, so he only needed to grab some breakfast and head out. His mother left home later, so he could take advantage of that to get some more sleep.
He turned off the alarm and headed to the fridge. Breakfast would consist of toast with cream cheese and a mug of black coffee with sugar.
While having coffee, he remembered one of his classmates telling the story of a teacher who drank black, cold coffee without sugar. Supposedly, it was to unconsciously make the teacher understand that life isn't sweet or comfortable, but still, it's possible to enjoy it even with all the armor and coldness one has.
He started laughing like a hyena when he heard that and was almost bursting into laughter again now.
The idea of someone choosing to put themselves in an uncomfortable situation just to "get used to it" was so absurd that it was funny.
Who cares if the teacher's coffee is cold and bitter? His will be hot and sweet. Franklin is the kind of person who accepts any comfort that comes his way. Credit cards? Instant transactions? Piracy? Food delivery? Ride-sharing?
Any convenience is welcome. The destiny of the evolution of the industry is already humans working less, so why postpone the inevitable?
With this progressive mindset, he took a bus to go to school.
The school routine is the same as it has always been. Review what was done in the previous class (this being corrections of activities that 70% were finishing on the spot or waiting for the teacher to correct on the board so they could copy), see an introduction to a new subject, not understand anything, be explained about 30 times and still not understand, finish the class, and go home.
In class, Franklin is the kind of person who says almost nothing, doesn't raise his hand to answer a question, isn't interested in groups or cliques, not even in talking to other people. He's not shy. He just doesn't like too many people in one place. An introvert.
The difference between the two is simple:
Shy:
OH NO! PEOPLE!
Introvert:
Ugh... People...
On his way back home, he passed under the bridge he always passed on his way home. The bridge had a staircase on the side that led to the main street where he could catch a bus that would take him home.
On this particular day, there were people there.
"Hey, Frank! We've been wanting to talk to you for a while!" A boy in a school uniform with very messy hair announced his presence.
"Yeah! You're always in a hurry, going everywhere like you've lost something." Another guy with similarly messy hair commented.
These were the Aquino brothers. Tobias Aquino and Jorge Aquino. Two troublemakers, bullies, and idiots who had been bothering Franklin for a while.
The next scene wasn't very pretty. The Aquinos were giving Franklin the daily beating they always gave him. He never fought back or reported to the authorities or school teachers.
What were they going to do? Expel them? In the slums?
Yeah, right...
A relatively short man, around 1.70 meters tall, bald, and quite muscular, saw the commotion. He was wearing what looked like sportswear. Tank top, pants, sneakers...
He descended the bridge stairs and approached the boys.
"Isn't it kind of cowardly to beat up someone who can't defend himself?" The bald guy said to the troublemakers.
"What's it to you?" Tobias threatened.
"Get out of here if you don't want to get hurt, shorty." Jorge assisted his brother in the threat.
"Well, that's not how you talk to your elders."
The next scene was something out of a martial arts movie. Or a cliché boxing film. Because what happened was that the bald guy dodged all the blows from the two troublemakers as if a normal person were avoiding two blind people. The only time he really needed to defend himself was when the two troublemakers attacked simultaneously.
And even then, all he did was hold them and throw them as if they were a soccer ball.
Franklin passed out due to the obvious beating he took, not long after the Bald Guy finished dealing with the Aquinos.
"You look awful. I'm going to take you somewhere."
Not that Franklin could protest. His eyes were persuading him to sleep. It was almost irresistible.
Maybe a nap wouldn't be so bad.