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“Lonely life’s a crying road
Shady name, shady night
Hide the sunlight in your eyes
Only for the hiding Romeo”
Colson, the new kid in the neighborhood, unknowingly ended up on the local gang member Marshall’s radar.
Looking back now, Colson isn’t sure if he was saved that night, in the alley way or if that was the moment he was damned.
Maybe a little bit of both.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
The prickling awareness of being watched makes Marshall look towards the other side of the fence. In the fading sunlight, he notices the blond boy. Sitting on a motorcycle, wearing a designer jacket with his fluffy hair, defined jaw. Despite the long hair, it seemed his eyes are fixed on Marshall in a hooded gaze that settled like a hot brand on Marshall’s skin.
It was like something was being communicated; unlike the last time, the boy seemed unnerved.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
After shifting to this city, when he’d first started working at the club, his suburban-raised sensibilities had been shocked by how common it was for customers to proposition the staff, and even more so, for them to accept.
Colson has already learned from his co-worker’s gossip that there are many gangs in the city. Most of them are contract killers, dealers or pimps. Each one of them have their own dens or places around the city, marked with their insignia.
He still remembers the day he got jumped by one of the gangs.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
Usually the club is always filled with people from various walks of life. Gang members usually comes late in the night to either do their deals or break some. That was the second week of Colson’s working in this club when the incident took place. Normally he makes sure to stay away from all the troubles and leave as soon as his shift ends. However, that day the club had some unwelcome visitors, some highly notorious mob members from the other side of the state.
Whole day they followed Colson’s every movement. The new kid. A beautiful prey. Colson tried his best to stay out of their way, no way in hell he’s going to confront them to give them a taste of his fists. When his shift finally ended Colson was more than ready to go back home and sleep for a week.
Colson took his jacket from the back room, said his goodbyes and walked towards the exit. Unbeknownst to him, those mafia members also decided to leave with the single intent to catch the prey.
Colson had only taken a few steps when they located him.
Without wasting a second, they shoved Colson hard towards the dark alley way. Laughing at him as two mob members grabbed his hands tightly while their leader stepped in front of Colson, took a hold of his jaw in a painful grip and licked a broad stripe of Colson’s left cheek.
Colson was terrified but mostly, he was disgusted. However, he made sure to not show any of such emotions. Displaying any type of vulnerability in situations like this, will only rile them up more. As those guys kept sneering at him, making lewd remarks about his features, his body; their bald leader’s other hand started to wander around his body. However, before he could grab a hold of Colson’s ass, that repulsive mob boss suddenly dropped to ground and started convulsing terribly.
At first Colson was too surprised to understand what the hell exactly happened but then he looked down and chills ran down his spine.
To his absolute horror, he realized he was standing in a pool of blood. So much blood. Blood that was rapidly coloring the whole ground in crimson color.
Distantly Colson’s brain told him that his hands are free now of those deathly grips and that the rest of the mafia guys are nowhere to be found but his whole body was frozen in shock.
Drenched in his cold sweat, Colson couldn’t keep on looking at the sheer horrific scenario in front of him anymore so he teared his eyes away from the dead leader’s unmoving body and looked up.
Three guys.
Two were standing at the entrance of the alley while the other one was standing only a few feet away from him.
In the dim over light, Colson saw the other guy’s unblinking gaze, looking at him with a blank face and piercing eyes. Then within a blink, that man was in front of him, standing with him close, right there in the bloodied ground. Instinctively, Colson tried to take a step back but the stranger swiftly took a hold of his left hand.
“Please, not again”, Colson thought anxiously.
While holding Colson’s hand, the stranger looked back at his companions and slowly nodded his head towards Colson. One of them walked up to this mysterious man and handed him what looked like a bandana and then went back to his previous place. As Colson frowned and wondered if this is how he’ll be straggled to death, the stranger turned back to him.
Without uttering a single a word, the man began to tie the bandana around Colson’s wrist.
Colson realized he's must be mistaken for a hooker or something so he cleared his throat and looked at the other man’s face. Trying to catch his attention before he gets kidnapped or sold, in a low voice Colson said; “I don’t do that, that’s not my job”.
Hearing his voice, the leather clad stranger looked up but not before making sure that the bandana was properly tied to Colson’s wrist. The guy then smirked, top lip curling. “I’m not making an offer."
Colson ran the sentence back in his head and then frowned. “What?” He enquired hesitantly.
“Welcome to the neighborhood”, the stranger said in low voice that was only meant for him to hear before turning back, and leaving the place with those other guys.
Well... that was just... weird?
As Colson was finally left alone in the dark alley with a cooling dead body at his feet, all of his senses and the horrible reality of the past half an hour came rushing back at the forefront of his mind. Colson couldn’t believe his luck and how close he had come to be murdered tonight.
Dawn was finally approaching. Home, he can finally go home.
Colson carefully stepped around the body, trying his best not to look at it and began to slowly walk towards his house. No more forgetting motorcycle at garage. Tonight’s experience will serve as a lifetime reminder to never leave the club without his bike. Whoever that stranger was, Colson hopes he gets to thank the person one day.
In the early morning glow, Colson lifted his left hand to look at his watch; instead he found the bandana still tied around his wrist, protectively. Looking closely, Colson realized that, this black piece of cloth had some bold letters printed on it in white ink. He squinted as something caught his eyes and then his steps came to a metaphorical screeching halt.
Standing in the middle of the empty road, he kept staring at the lettering, at that single word that will most probably become his very own Pandora's box in the near future. After contemplating his options for who knows how long and realizing that this isn't the end but just the beginning of something...
Something what?
Colson doesn't have the answer at the moment but he knows one thing for sure and that is, he's not leaving this neighborhood. Shaking his head at his luck, he finally utters, more like breaths the word into the cold morning air that surrounds him and ultimately seals the deal.
“MARSHALL”.