Andy Jenkins flipped the sign to 'open' in front of the glass doors from his newly opened gift store. A smile stretched wide across his freckles covered face, making his left side dimples deepened with excitement.

The young twenty-five-year-old man had finally saved enough money to open a business of his own, it may be small, but it was his, and no one can take it away from him. After all, he did work long and hard to get to where he stands.

At just the tender age of seven, Andy's parents had died in a tragic car accident, with him being their only child, Andy was immediately thrown into an orphanage where he was forced to experience the life of an adult at an early age. 

From throughout his stay, Andy became a victim of bullying from the other children who were supposed to share something common with him - a loss of both parents. But unfortunately, the gods weren't in his favor as the bullying eventually got worse when they found out his deep dark secret of being gay. If his peers weren't enough of a torment already, he'd also had to endure being harassed by the persons who were given the task of being his guardian. 

Eventually, Andy managed to pull through it all, however, it did come at a price. After the bullying had grown unbearable, Andy did the only thing that would see him finished the day. Andy fought back, which ultimately got him thrown out of the only home that once welcomed him since his parents passed away and landed him in an underage prison detention center for two years.

At the age of eighteen, Andy was released, with nowhere to go, he ended up on the streets with barely a few spare changes and the old worn-out clothes he'd had on his back. 

From there on out he'd lived his life on and off the streets for two miserable - backbreaking years, from either never being qualified enough to keep a job for too long, or from continuously paying bills until he couldn't anymore. 

Hence, Andy did the one thing he thought would benefit him in the long run. Andy had decided to become permanently homeless until he could accumulate enough money to do something worthwhile. 

Andy went on to work at a construction site while being homeless for a year, later proceeded to become a bartender, to taking shifts at fast food joints, plus numerous other odd jobs wherever he could get his hands on. 

Three years soon flew by and the young man had managed to save enough money to better himself. With all that money at his fingertips, Andy moved into a new unfamiliar city where no one knew him, hoping to start fresh. 

Amsterdam city, a city that once had been littered with gang violence, replaced with mobsters who claimed it as their own. 

Regrettably, Andy didn't know this, being the eager young man that he was, he had forgotten to research the place where he intended on living his life, not that his mind would've changed if he'd known the latter.

Andy rented out a small flat within the busy city streets. Unbothered by the countless skyscrapers and large businesses that surrounded and hovered above his fully stocked tiny store, Andy couldn't care less about them. He was going to make it, he was sure of that, and someday he planned on having his own place, a nice house away from the bustling crowds. As for now, he settled for staying in the single storage room by the back of his newly opened store. 

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A lifeless, slow-moving week floated by since Andy had opened his gift store. There he sat, sulking next to the empty counter, regretting he'd ever imagined opening a gift store in a busy city was ever a good idea. 

Since he had been open, only fifteen customers he'd manage to get. Andy would know because he'd counted every single one of them. 

Everyone else appeared to pass by the place as if it hadn't even existed. Andy damn sure thought it was a good idea, after all, every item was unique. He would know, considering he'd gone out of his way to find each and every piece of trinkets that rested upon the many wooden shelves which filled his tiny store. 

But apparently, people didn't think so, or it was just their lack of taste. That's exactly what it was - their lack of taste, Andy kept telling himself. 

Just when he'd given up hope and about to call it quits for the day, the tiny bell rang, signaling that someone had entered. Andy's head popped up from the counter, pushing away the little bit of his unkempt raven hair, which had fallen into his honey-colored eyes. Andy scrambled out of the backbreaking chair, advancing his way toward the two men who came within view.

Andy's smile, however, instantly faded when he came face-to-face beside the two well-built men who towered over his five-feet, ten-inches height. Andy recognized from the appearances of their hardened faces that they weren't at his store to do any sort of shopping. But something much more sinister. 

Perhaps they were here to rob his store? 

If they were after his money, they came to the wrong place.

Andy gulped, "Can I help you, gentlemen, with something?" Andy asked, ignoring the slight shaking of his voice. 

"Andy Jenkins?" The mid-thirties, blond hair man questioned, his voice held no kind of emotion and his blue eyes were lifeless. While the other who looks similar to blondie except for the glazing heap of brown hair upon his head, held a much warmer aura - just kept glancing around, adoring all the small trinkets.

Andy swallowed again before he spoke, "Yes?" He answered, which sounded more of a question and less of an answer. 

"I’m just gonna cut to the chase." The blond said, "I'm sure by now, you already know who runs this city. And, if you wanna open a business here." Blondie gestured with his hand around the store, "You were supposed to inform him before. Unfortunately for you, you didn't do any of that. Anyways no hard feelings -"

"Excuse me? But who are you?" Andy interrupted, for he held nothing but total confusion from where the man was getting at. 

"Let me finish." The man growled, which kept Andy quiet instantly, "It doesn't matter who I am. As I was saying, if you intend on keeping your business - or should I say, this shit hole." he chuckled, gesturing with his hands once more, waving toward the wooden carvings and handmade ornaments, "There are some rules you need to follow around here. And don't take this personal kid. This goes for everyone, which I'm sure you already knew, or you wouldn't be here."

"What are you talking about?" Andy was confused and scared when he notice the revolver printing visibly from the two men's waistbands. "Sirs, I honestly don't know what's going on -"

"I'm talking about the mafia kid." Andy's heart skipped a beat, the man continued, "Now you came into this city knowing who run these parts -"

Andy, "I didn't -"

"You best keep your mouth shut when I'm talking to you kid." Andy bit at his bottom lip. The blond-haired man hummed, then went on to explain, "Now it's simple. You pay us every month. And we make sure nothing happens to this dump. Don't pay....let's just say things will get ugly real fast."

Andy took huge gulps of air as his breath got caught within his throat, he had no idea the freaking mafia controlled this city. Out of all the cities around, why did he had to pick the one with the freaking mafia? There was no way he could pack up and leave now, hell, all his hard-working money went into this place, he couldn't just leave and start over. 

"How much?" Andy questioned, after having an inner meltdown with himself to think of the many outcomes, which none of them would end well if he said no.

"For starters. Two thousand a month." The buff tattoo-covered, brown hair man informed Andy with a faint chuckle. 

Andy's mouth went agape. 

Two thousand dollars? 

They can't be serious. How the holy hell would he be able to give them two thousand a month when he barely made five hundred a week?

"What if I can't? " Andy asked, yet already appeared to know the answer. 

"Well let's just say the boss wouldn't be too happy with that, and your precious store won't be here when you wake up the next morning," Blondie assured him.

"Who's your boss?" Andy stood curious to know the man who would be responsible for his upcoming depression and downfall. 

"You'll know soon enough pretty boy." Blondie chuckled, moving toward the front door, "Anyway, someone will come at the beginning of every month to collect the payment." 

With that, the duo walked out, leaving a severely demented and anxiety stricken Andy behind to come to terms with the newfound information they'd just emptied on him.