1 Ch01. The same...
"Hey! If you drop this, I'll take it out of your pay!" The big guy with glasses shouted, looking at the young man in exasperation.
Johan was doing everything he could to balance that huge glass plate on his back.
If he dropped that, it would be really, really bad.
"Yes sir!" Johan replied through his teeth. 'Just two more, and the money will be in my hand.'
A gig might not mean much to ordinary people. For Johan Reed, however...
Even hard work like carrying those huge sheets of glass to that guy's storage room, even though he wouldn't pay much, meant he could have hot food in his stomach, and maybe even find a cheap motel room, where I could finally take a hot shower and sleep in a bed.
Living on the streets is not easy.
It's a type of life that tests your limits, both physical, emotional and psychological.
However, nineteen-year-old Johan Reed always fought to not allow himself to reach the threshold where these limits were truly tested.
Jet-black hair, white skin, stained and dirty with grease, sweat, and a few days without being able to take a decent shower, six feet tall, and a relatively muscular body - to the extent that a homeless person can even have big muscles and defined -, Johan panted, taking the last steps into the warehouse.
His dark eyes had already gotten used to the darkness of the warehouse, so there was no problem moving around there, in the middle of that mess of various items.
With reasonable effort, he placed the glass plate on the floor, on an old mattress, made sure that it was in no danger of falling, and went back outside.
Two more plates of that, and his stomach would stop roaring like a rabid beast...
***
Just under an hour later, Johan was completely exhausted, but a tired smile crossed his lips.
"You're not useless at all, boy." The warehouse owner said, looking seriously at Johan. "Here's the payment I promised. Like I said before, it's not much, but I hope these eighty dollars can help you with something. And if you need another gig, you know where to find me."
The young man's heart felt as light as a feather.
'Food and a motel room... Yeah, I won't be able to get a spacious room, but ugh...'
Johan, after weeks, would finally sleep away from the unexpected threats of the night streets...
***
In a cafeteria not far away, Johan sat at a table, feeling the judgmental looks of the customers.
'How about you guys go screw yourselves and mind your own business, huh?' Johan closed his eyes, breathing slowly, trying not to let this common situation shake him.
"What... Can I do for..." The waiter hesitated, trying to think of a way out of that situation. "What do you want to order?"
Johan didn't look up, his eyes glued to the menu, knowing that the waiter was looking at him in the same way as the customers.
Maybe even worse...
For some reason, whenever he went into a cafe, restaurant, or diner to eat - when he had some money, and wasn't just kicked out by some security guard - waiters and other minor employees always looked at him with disdain.
Even disgusted.
"A cheeseburger and large fries, please. And a large orange juice, too."
Above Johan's field of vision, the waiter's eyes widened slightly.
Almost as if the employee was surprised by the homeless man's politeness.
"Right..." The waiter nodded and left, relieved.
A few minutes later, Johan was eating his burger and shoving one fry after another down his throat.
How long had it been since he last ate?
His muscles needed energy, and there wasn't much chance of getting anything to fill his belly without having to resort to begging for money on the streets.
Johan could be many things, but he had his pride, and that prevented him from sinking to the level of others 'equal' to him.
After paying, Johan left, leaving a humble tip for the waiter.
One thing he had learned in all those years on the streets...
'If you want to destroy someone who judges you, treat them with kindness.'
Unless the person shoves their hand on your face.
You can't make anyone bleed with kindness.
"GET OUT OF THE WAY!" Johan heard it as soon as he crossed the threshold of the diner's exit and onto the street.
A man wearing an apparently very expensive suit bumped into the young man, and almost fell, but he regained his balance, and continued running.
Johan managed to notice two details at that moment, as he looked in the opposite direction, and saw three men, less well dressed than the first, running in the same direction as him.
One of them, carrying a very sharp knife.
The first detail was that the forehead of the man in the expensive suit was bleeding.
Trying to understand what was happening, Johan thought quickly.
A man in a suit like that, chased by those three suspicious guys, to say the least, was most likely fleeing an attempted robbery.
Johan sniffed the air, his body reacting quickly to someone in his life situation, and before he even started to run towards the man in the expensive suit, a huge grin took over his face...
As his foot stretched towards the hurried footsteps of those three.
'Dangerous... But danger calls reward.' Johan thought, grinning even more widely.
And when one of them fell, the young man started running in the same direction.
However, even with the adrenaline of having gotten into something he hadn't been called upon to do, the second detail that Johan had noticed wouldn't leave his mind.
Was it really possible, or had his head started playing tricks on him?
Mentally cursing that he had barely finished eating, and already had to expend his newly recovered energy, Johan put everything he had into his legs, running faster than his pursuers.
'It must have been all in my head...'
Arriving at a corner, Johan passed through an alley, where he managed to make out the figure of the man, leaning against a wall.
Suddenly startled, he turned his face to the open street, seeing Johan there.
A tired expression took over his pale face.
Johan's eyes widened, and he himself turned pale.
'Holy shit...'
It hadn't been in his head.
The man in the expensive suit had a face identical to Johan's...
