Slinking into the luxury car, Dean gripped the wheel with fervor, sighing. Inspecting the interior, one could find no flaws at all. Ridiculously sleek, plush, and exceedingly expensive; it was a Ferrari.

He felt the thrill of the engine, pulling out of the driveway. The weight behind the steel chassis - the weight of luxury.

It was a momentary delight, the kind Dean wasn't exactly remiss to indulge himself in. Still, as he parked the car in its designated spot, he began to think idly.

What was so different about the two of them? Why was it that he was serving at this guy's beck and call, while the asshole was riding around in foreign luxury?

Entrenched in his thoughts, Dean turned the bend into the front of Vienna's gilded gates on foot, eyeing the building. The massive structure loomed above his tiny figure, its façade dripping with ostentatious opulence.

The entrance, with its marble pillars and polished brass details, felt worlds away from his reality. Looking around at the massive construction, he was still stewing when his sight fell on Viktor.

Viktor leaned against the valet stand, staring off into space, lost in thought when Kamen approached the stand.

He lowered his gaze to land on Dean.

"Hey."

"Do you ever think about leaving this place?"

Dean tilted his head at the question.

It was strange, out of the norm for their normal interactions that typically consisted of light-hearted jokes and gossip about various celebrities.

He felt like something was in the air today.

"Yeah. All the time."

Viktor nodded naturally.

"Of course."

He gestured towards the hotel.

"We should be in there….not manning this door."

Very reasonable, Dean thought inwardly. He had never known Viktor to be such a reasonable guy.

"Enough is enough, we've been moving cars for these rich assholes for too long."

Dean nodded again. He liked this type of indulgence.

The human mind was like this, too. Even considering yourself in a different, better position is enough to send dopamine racing through your cerebrum. It was to the extent that people sometimes proliferated their own issues, just so they could imagine themselves escaping.

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After all, it would be quite a tragedy to attain everything that you desired, and still feel as if something was lacking. You might go around trying to embarrass people in your Ferrari.

"It's draining, man. Being at their beck and call. Sure, we get to drive nice cars, but never for long. If they're so rich, why the hell are they watching the odometer so closely? We can't even take them for a joy ride."

Dean kept nodding along. It was truly very satisfying to hear Viktor vent like this.

Then, his eyes took a darker sheen.

"I say we get out of here. I've got a plan."

Dean stopped nodding his head.

It seemed like this wasn't really part of the script?

"Take a look at this."

Reaching into his back pocket, Viktor summoned a newspaper rolled tightly into a cylinder.

"Is that actually a newspaper dude? I didn't know they still made those."

Victor smirked

"I read the variety columns- plus, everything worth reading is in print…!"

(This book is an exception!)

With the most delicate, and the most methodical care, Viktor unrolled the newspaper, flattening it on the head of the stand.

"Here's the gist - it takes money to make money." Victor glanced at Dean, waiting for a nod of understanding before proceeding."

He tapped rhythmically atop the paper for emphasis, as if it were a treasure map.

"and X marks the spot."

Pointing at the newspaper's yellowed pages, his finger landed atop a subtle listing nestled neatly between the variety and sports columns.

Easy to overlook, and largely inconspicuous, it was a wonder that Viktor had spotted it in the first place.

But written in large, bold letters, its intent was written with clarity, and Viktor's eyes lit up as he read the details aloud with a sort of reverence, words flowing with a sense of urgency.

**YOUNG, HEALTHY**

**TEST SUBJECTS NEEDED**

**2000$ WEEKLY FOR LENGTH OF THE TERM**

Victor grinned wildly, tapping the page once again.

"What do you say, huh? Easy cash!"

Dean looked at the page, and then Victor again.

"Test subjects? Victor, nobody's gonna give out two grand for free," Dean refused in a harsh whisper. "And look at how vague that is! That's suspicious as shit. They think if they include information, they'll scare everybody off!"

"No, you dunce. That's just how psychological regulations work and stuff. It might mess up the study if we know what they're testing for. It's probably just some health trial or something, and they need to keep it confidential." Victor was unfazed.

"Anyway, we won't need to go at it long, just a couple weeks until we're able to transition to something more savory. I'll be damned if I'm parking cars for rich people until I'm geriatric."

Victor's eyes narrowed and he leaned in closer.

"What are you getting cold feet for? Didn't we just have a heart to heart about changing our lives? Are you in, or not?"

'That was supposed to be hypothetical!'

Thinking furiously, Dean was taken by uncertainty. He thought about all the bad things that could possibly happen. Growing another arm, or losing one, developing some sort of rare incurable disease.

Then, he thought about the man in the Ferrari. He thought about the hundreds of assholes who were just like him, walking around like they owned the place.

Finally, he thought about the girl from the train.

Resolving to change, it was sometimes a very complicated thing to do, and sometimes it was very simple. Some people could go their entire lives without managing to gather it up, and change in an instant. Others would never change at all. Sometimes the catalyst was a major event, and sometimes, it could be as simple as a passing thought.

For the truly depraved, it might just require a wayward glance from a stranger on the train.

"Okay, fine.

"I'm in."