Regret flooded over Xaviar whilst sitting inside his well-furnished vintage custom made office, an office that Xaviar consumed most of his time, sulking in. Carefully, his fingers rummage through the heap of records clutched securely within his grasp. Everything he needed to know about Andy was in those papers.

Going through them, realizing the kind of life the boy endured made Xaviar felt like shit for having been the cause to add more misery to the young man's already messed up life. He'd taken everything away from a man who worked nothing but hard all his life.

How could he step so low, Xaviar couldn't help but ponder.

After leaving a bloody Andy behind, Xaviar made sure to call an ambulance on his way out, he had planned on leaving the boy for dead, however, something within him had other ideas.

Was it guilt?

Xaviar didn't know. Except sitting there in his desolate home, Xaviar could tell it was a completely different phenomenon. Something he kept buried for a long long time.

Feelings.

Xaviar remained at war with his emotions for quite a prolonged time. After suffering from loneliness for as long as he could remember, Xaviar eventually learned to master the art of hiding how he truly felt, he masked it with becoming a cold-hearted killer who everyone has come to despise. Even his dead father.

Regarding Andy, the boy had somehow managed - without even trying, to bring out all the emotions he'd concealed. And although Xaviar didn't fancy it one bit, he wasn't going to deny it. At the end of the day, even a bastard deserves some form of love.

----------

Andy awoke, only to be engulfed inside a plain white hospital room. His head felt similar to an exploding time bomb, his swollen eyes could barely open, even if they did, there wasn't much he could see, and his face felt numb to the touch.

How did he get here?

What happened?

How long had he been here?

So many questions yet so little answers.

Just when Andy's about to get an internal meltdown, a doctor stepped into the room, cutting Andy's train of thoughts short.

"I see you're awake Andy." The doctor stated, walking over to Andy, keeping his gaze toward the file he carried in his hand. "I'm David, David Hector. I'll be taking care of you from here on out. How are you feeling?"

Andy blinked slowly, wanting to get a clearer view of the doctor, "I can't feel my face, and everywhere hurts." Andy was on the verge of tears, remembering how the mafia man had beaten him to a pulp and he wasn't able to do shit about it.

"Ah yes." David eventually brought his eyes off the file to view the battered man before him, "Well you did take a severe beating yesterday. I'm afraid that whoever did it, had also destroyed your store -"

Andy wanted to have the man who created so much pain and thought he could get away with it, to face the plenty. Hence, Andy spoke up, "I know who did it." Ignoring the slight sting within his throat.

The middle-aged man sighed, "Son. I'm afraid everyone already knows who did it." Andy's eyes widen in confusion.

If they knew, why isn't anyone doing anything?

"Look, I would best advise you to just let it go. It's not worth your life, and it's a waste of time going to the cops, they won't do anything...Not around here anyway." Dr. Hector hung his head in compassion, "I'm sorry son."

Andy directed his bruised face away from the man who held nothing but pity in his eyes for Andy.

So this is it?

There was nothing he could do?

Well then, it would've been better off if they'd left him for dead.

"How did I get here?" Andy asked, changing the subject entirely since his problems were none of the doctor's concern.

"I'm not certain, someone must've seen you and called an ambulance." Dr. Hector cleared his throat, wiping the pity he held upon his face and went back to being professional. "Anyways, you'll have to stay here for a week at most until everything's back to normal -"

"I can't stay here for a week." Andy protested, considering the upcoming medical bills he would have to pay. Yet, he made no indication he desired to leave anytime soon.

"Oh yes you can and you are." Dr. Hector scoffed, "Don't worry about the bills, whoever called was generous enough to pay for it. Now you get some rest, you'll need it."

With that, the older man didn't ponder any longer as he shuffled out of the room leaving Andy to wonder why would anyone pay for his medical bills. Or better yet, what would be his next move in life? Though it was painfully obvious. It was the streets for him once again.

----------

A week later after being discharged from the hospital, Andy stood in the middle of all the ruins he'd once thought would've been his big break. A better life he'd thought, how wrong was he.

Doctor Hector made Andy stay his full week in the hospital, his face healed, though marks still lingered, thankfully the pain was no more, and how grateful for that Andy was. Still, when he'd got home, he couldn't seem to come to grasp what had happened, he'd decided to just go to bed, hoping his problems would go away. With hardly any money left, and the rent was due within two days, Andy knew he had to go look for a job or be out in the streets.

When morning came, Andy's problems didn't magically disappear as he'd want them too. Therefore, with a long sigh, Andy grabbed hold of the garbage bag and began picking up pieces of what once was his future since the next day he would be busy hunting for a job.

----------

Andy cursed under his breath as the fifth door was slammed in his face today. One week. That's how long he's been looking for a job. One damn week and nothing, his rent was already due, if he hadn't begged his landlord for a few extra days he would've probably lived out on the streets by now. The few spare changes he'd had tucked away was almost finished, Andy needed a job and he needed one now.

In his moment of desperation, Andy stumbled into the most sleazy place he promised himself to never step foot in again - a nightclub. A place never wanted to work in ever again from the continuously degrading treatment he'd face while working in them.

But apparently, fate had a different story for him since he ended up and got a job there. Serving people drinks wasn't one of Andy's strong suits, but it would have to do.

----------

The night was still young, nevertheless, the club was packed.

Droplets of sweat pierced through Andy's white waiter's dress shirt, while the somewhat tight black pants render his movements difficult. It's been quite some time since he'd been this uncomfortable, and the required uniform was indeed uncomfortable, nonetheless, Andy wasn't complaining.

Whilst Andy served alcohol to loud drunk customers, unaware of the younger man, someone sat at the back of the club. Behind the private area where the leather lounge chair laid, black silk drapes circling them, and the lights were dimmed for privacy. Praying eyes were watching Andy's every move.

----------

Xaviar relaxed in the corner, gripping a wine glass firmly between his slender fingers, his hungry eyes roamed over the young man who waited tables tirelessly all night.

It's been several days, yet, Xaviar couldn't cease thinking about the younger man ever since he'd beaten the crap out of him. Xaviar was never one to go after someone, but Andy had been frequenting his dreams - and his heart lately, that was something need fixing.

Two weeks prior, Xaviar sent two of his men to keep an eye out on the young lad. He didn't know why he did it, he just did. When they came back telling him about Andy's new job, Xaviar knew he had to be there, just to make sure the boy was safe - again, he didn't know why he was doing it, it just felt right.

Being cooped up in the corner all night, drinking nothing but cheap wine, Xaviar finally dared to make his move.

Normally, Xaviar would go directly to someone he fancies, however, Andy wasn't simply someone. No, Andy's different. He made Xaviar nervous from the very day he'd met the man. That scared and excited the mafia to the core.

----------

Andy stood over the bar counter collecting more drinks to serve when two strong, rough hands grabbed his waist from behind but fell shortly after when the young man jumped against the sudden intrusion. Quickly, Andy spun around to see who would dare do such a thing, not that he was surprised, after all, the place is a shady nightclub.

Honey-colored eyes widened, and shock smeared across Andy's freckled face as he came face to face once again, with the man who single-handedly ruined his life in merely seconds. Xaviar, the cocky bastard.

It wouldn't take a genius to tell the older man was drunk, for he swayed slightly and held droopy eyes. Xaviar lifted his hands, grabbing hold of Andy's waist once more, pulling the boy closer toward him.

"Get your hands off me." Andy hissed at the maffioso, who paid him no mind as he inched his face over to Andy's neck. Andy yanked the older man's hand away from his waist, "What the hell is your problem man?" Andy drove Xaviar away from his body. Xaviar stumbled back, the alcohol doing a number on him.

Xaviar knew if he pushed Andy to the limit and the boy decided to fight back, Xaviar would be in deep trouble. But then again, he was too drunk to care.

"What makes you think that I have a problem?" Xaviar arched an eyebrow, "I just wanted to talk to you that's all." Unable to stand still, Xaviar slowly stretched his hand out once more, trying to hold onto Andy's shoulder this time, "Can't you just talk to me?" The younger man pulled away just in the nick of time and quickly strode toward the crowded dance floor.

Well, that was disappointing.

What happened to get his ass kicked as an act of revenge?

"Just leave me the fuck alone man!" Andy shouted through the music.

Xaviar observed with another regretful frown upon his face as Andy pranced further away, disappearing into the crowd of horny teenagers and addicts who frequented the bar until dawn.