‘Another month without a reply… Did I mess everything up?’

Demian typed on his phone, looking out the window at the intensely shining sun. As he moved further from East Aurora, the scenery slowly changed; the colorful residential buildings faded like distant memories, giving way to tall, modern structures; these imposing and cold buildings replaced all that small family shops with large corporations. Giant ads reflected promises of a vibrant future, while the city’s noise pulsed around him.

‘Which it’s not unusual… I think I somehow disappointed him.’

His eyes seemed tired, and he turned up the volume of his music to drown out the world around him as the bus headed toward the heart of the city.

‘Why is it always like this? I can never do anything right… Sometimes I wonder if the world would be a better place without me…’

He got off the bus and headed toward a large center. A few minutes later, Demian found himself leaning on an overpass, sipping a milkshake; a panoramic view of the city stretched out before him: cars moving in constant flow, holographic ads floating in the air, and the subway crossing tracks that snaked across the metropolis. Yet, his focus was on the people passing by on the enormous walkway.

There was an impressive variety of people: girls and boys wearing colorful, bold outfits, men and women in suits talking on their phones as if they were in important meetings. Most faces were glued to the glowing screens of their phones. But there were still smiles and companionship, especially among the younger ones, who seemed to form an invisible bond uniting everyone there. He, on the other hand, remained alone, facing away from the city, feeling out of place in that vibrant world.

‘I wonder what their lives are like, surrounded by friends and girls. It’s as if, even in the same space, the world spins differently for each of us.’

He typed on his phone as he watched a group of well-dressed young people in team jackets, surrounded by girls who smiled enthusiastically. He could almost imagine himself among them, closing his eyes briefly and listening to their animated chatter.

They exchanged laughs and gestures of excitement with each other. Among them, a tall Black young man stood out, holding a beautiful girl close and wrapping his arm around her waist.

‘I wish I could be like him… If I were, maybe things could be different…’

He typed, then his eyes fixed on that couple in particular; he glanced at the girl’s skirt before lowering his gaze to the ground.

‘But deep down, I know I don’t deserve any of that…’

His tired eyes were watching each character typed on the phone screen when he felt the collar of his shirt being yanked hard. Startled, he noticed that two guys from that group were standing in front of him. Both had the build of athletes: one was blond, and the other had darker skin.

– What are you doing? Taking sneaky little pics, huh? –said the darker-skinned one, confronting him.

Demian leaned back, trying to escape, but soon another guy stepped up beside him, preventing him from moving away. With frightened eyes, he looked around, almost pleading for help. However, people nearby completely ignored the situation, their eyes glued to their cell phones.

You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

– I... I didn’t…– Demian tried to back away, glancing between the two, feeling his throat tighten. – This is just... a misunderstanding.

– Oh yeah? Then why the hell were you staring at Carly? Answer you freak! – asked the blond guy, grabbing Demian’s phone from his hand.

Demian tried to snatch it back, but the darker-skinned guy shoved him by the neck, making him freeze and nearly drop his drink.

– Did he take any pics of her? – asked the darker-skinned guy, looking over at the blond one, who examined the screen seriously but quickly broke into a smile.

He started laughing and gestured for the other guy to come over. He obliged while Demian put a hand to his neck, trying to calm his breathing.

– Nah, nothing like that! This wuss is probably writing poetry. – said the blond guy, pointing at the phone with a grin. The other looked at the screen and started laughing too. – Check this shit out!

– That’s mine... Give it back! – Demian demanded, trying to move.

But the darker-skinned guy put a hand on his shoulder, squeezing it with a slight smirk. – Relax, emo. What’s the rush?

Demian lowered his head, pursing his lips and staring at the ground while his hand slowly crushed his drink cup.

– What the hell is this? ‘I wish I could be like him. – the darker-skinned guy mocked, reading out loud in a mocking tone. – What you’re writing is loser stuff. Man up, emo.

– You’ve probably never even seen a pair of tities, huh? What a virgin. – the blond guy taunted with a smile.

Demian closed his eyes, his hand shaking as he listened to their laughter and felt the taps on his head, which started light but eventually got harder.

– Cut that crap!

The command came with a slap to the head of the darker-skinned guy, who turned around with a look of annoyance. The blond guy just stepped back.

Demian opened his eyes and saw the tall Black guy from before taking the phone out of the blond guy’s hand and holding it out toward him.

– Here, take it. – he said with a neutral expression, looking at Demian, who was still backed up. – Sorry about that.

He slowly grabbed his phone and nodded, looking at the Black guy who pulled the other two under his arms, forcing them to step away. His gaze followed the Black guy with a hint of admiration as he walked off. Demian turned in the opposite direction, preparing to type, a slight smile on his face.

– If you're gonna mess with a retard, at least do it somewhere discreet.

Demian overheard the Black guy’s parting words as he now laughed with the other two. He squeezed his drink cup tighter when his phone vibrated with a notification.

The three guys started to laugh quietly, only to be interrupted as a milkshake cup hit them from behind, splattering across their clothes.

– What the hell?! – shouted the Black guy.

They all turned to look at Demian, who stood in a throwing stance, phone in hand and a crooked smile on his face.

– Screw you all... I wanted things to be different. – Demian murmured, looking at the ground. – But it’ll never be different, and honestly, I think I prefer it that way.

– What the hell are you talking about?! – the blond guy asked, inspecting the stain on his clothes.

– I’m not talking to you; I’m talking to myself. – Demian replied, flashing a grin and flipping them off. – For you guys: hope you enjoy strawberry flavor and go fuck yourselves!

– Son of a... You’re dead! – yelled the Black guy, shoving the other two forward as they started to chase after him. – Get him!

Demian quickly ran down the walkway toward the elevated platform leading to the metro entrance. As he climbed, he vaulted over a silver metal bar, pushing off with impressive agility. The darker-skinned guy nearly kept pace but stumbled when he tried to jump the bar, which broke as if it had rusted over for years, sending him tumbling to the ground.

– My grandma could run faster than you idiots! And she used a wheelchair! – Demian taunted as he climbed up, looking back and weaving through people who barely noticed what was happening.

The blond guy lagged behind, helping his friend who had fallen. However, the Black guy kept pushing forward, shoving his way through the crowd with difficulty due to his size.

When he finally reached the metro platform, bumping into a few people, he spotted Demian already inside a train car. As he tried to reach him, the doors closed.

Demian made a mock crying face with his hand and a sad expression before grinning and flipping him off once more. As the train began to move, he exhaled, smiling.

– Finally…

The words left his lips like a sigh of relief. He leaned against the door, looking at his phone, which showed a message from an unknown number: ‘Demian, I need you to come to the Ioven building. We have matters to discuss.’