Following the unwanted encounter with the self-loathing mafia boss at the nightclub a few nights ago, Andy couldn't help but feel as if those piercing cold green eyes had been stalking him around ever since. 

Or perhaps it's just his mind playing tricks on him? 

Either way, it's scaring the hell out of Andy.

Despite the fact that Xaviar never made an appearance since that night, Andy knew the man was always around the club, lurking from the corners like some weirdo. 

The question is, why? 

What does he want with Andy? 

Hadn't Xaviar already taken enough from the young man? 

What more could he possibly want? 

If only Andy knew what Xaviar wanted, maybe, just maybe he would give in, since he too, couldn't hide the drawing attraction he has toward the older man, given the fact that the very same man had beaten him to a pulp a few weeks gone.

----------

Xaviar stood at the back of the nightclub, colorful lights flashing in all directions, while the sound of an electric trap played in the background, deafening his ears in the process. 

His eyes landed on one thing. 

And one thing only. 

Andy. 

The mafia honestly didn't even know why he kept doing what he was doing. Usually when he wants something - in this case, someone. Xaviar would demand it like the spoilt brat he was, and everyone closest to him would be waiting on his hands and feet - not that Xaviar was complaining. 

Normally everything was handed to him Goddammit. 

Xaviar never had to work hard for anything a day in his life, so why should he start now?

That, he doesn't know. However, a little voice at the back of his ignorant head kept telling him, Andy was worth working for. So here he was, stalking a guy at some shitty club all hours of the night. 

----------

Andy's hips swayed towards the beat, enjoying the music as he made his way over to a nearby table, serving drinks. Unaware of Xaviar building rage toward the men whose drunken eyes held nothing but lust as they glared at Andy from the table the boy was serving.

At first, Xaviar wasn't sure of Andy's sexual preference - not that he cared to say the least. But having been coming to the club more regularly just to grace his eyes upon the young man, he was now certain Andy indeed favored men. 

Still, that wasn't an excuse to justify Xaviar's unlawful behavior, would Andy ever forgive him for what he'd done? That, the mafia boss didn't know. However, he had a plan. It wasn't a good plan, but it was a plan nonetheless. 

Xaviar was going to apologize to Andy, something he rarely ever does. Not that he could recall the last time he'd done it. Hell, if he does care about the boy - which he didn't, Andy was just someone to crave his lust - just a passing fling - that's right. Well, that's what Xaviar kept telling himself, knowing full well that wasn't the truth - he was not only going to apologize, but also pay for all the damages he'd cause, with interest - yeah, that'll fix everything. 

Now all Xaviar had to do was walk over there. It couldn't be that hard - now could it? Well, it was, his damn feet wouldn't move. It was way simpler when he was drunk. Hell, he's a feared man, why was he acting like a love-struck teenager Goddammit. Xaviar was seriously questioning his masculinity right about now. 

"Just bloody move Xaviar. How hard can it be?" Xaviar mumbled, irritably under his breath, ''He'll listen. After all, money solves everything. Right?'' Xaviar sighed. It was now or never. 

The mafia stretched his feet, only to take one step in Andy's direction, who now sat by the barstool, wiping his sweaty forehead with his white sleeve uniform. 

Droplets of sweat made their way down Xaviar's forehead. "Fuck it." He cursed out loud, pacing speedily near the exit door. Xaviar didn't understand why the hell he was so nervous. He had never been nervous in all his thirty years of life. Not that he could recall much from the earlier days.

Stepping outside, the cold-blooded murderer let out a breath he didn't know he'd been holding back. Andy was doing things to him he never thought possible. Xaviar mentally slapped himself for being such an ass towards the younger man because of his selfishness of wanting to keep his city in order. 

In other words - filling his already full pockets. Greedy son of a bitch.

"Thought I would find you here." A deep husky voice spoke from within the alleyways, snapping Xaviar out of his thoughts. 

Xaviar froze in his tracks. Head's turning to get a better glimpse at the emerging shadow. Xaviar rested his palm on the revolver, tucked nicely inside his waistband. 

"It's just me Xaviar. Don't shoot." The person spoke again. Xaviar's hand dropped when he realized who the voice belonged to. 

It's been years, to say the least, but Xaviar didn't forget. How could he?

The man with a nasty scar that went straight crossed his left cheek, moved completely out of the darkness so Xaviar could see him. "It's been forever brother, I thought I'd never get to see you again." 

Standing a few inches taller than Xaviar's six feet, the man's pale features were decorated with permanent cuts and slashes about his face, his brown, brittle hair laid a mess on top of his broad shoulders.

"Damon?" Xaviar gasped out.

Xaviar and Damon were once best friends ever since Xaviar's family moved to America. Apart from Xaviar's father, Damon was the only other person Xaviar had truly trusted. 

There was just one problem. 

Damon was supposed to be dead. 

Damon had been shot right in front of Xaviar three years ago. Xaviar would know, after all, he was the one who had Damon executed for treason because he was too much of a spineless jellyfish to do it himself. 

How in the hell is Damon still alive?

A shot was fired from Demon's direction, echoing throughout the alleyways, and cutting Xaviar's thoughts brief. 

Xaviar's mouth went agape, only no words came out. Gazing down, that's when he noticed the bright crimson around his abdomen, covering his once white t-shirt. He'd been shot. Memories of pain and betrayal flooded Xaviar's clouded mind. Damon was like a brother to him, why did it have to come to this? 

Perhaps Xaviar should've thought about that when he'd ordered for his best friend to be shot while Damon was on his hands and knees begging for his life.

Xaviar's gradually raised his head, only to have Damon punch him square in the jaw, sending Xaviar falling into the dirty ground from the impact. 

Damon wasted no time, pouncing on top of Xaviar. The two men cursed at each other as they fought. Toppling over one another as they do so. Unfortunately for Xaviar, Damon seized an opportunity and jammed his fist into Xaviar's bloody abdomen, the mafia boss grunted in pain as he collapsed once more on the ground. 

Defeated, Xaviar lay lifeless as Damon kicked him over and over about his body while spewing insults. "You left me for dead, you bastard.....You thought I'd betrayed you?.....Well, guess what fucker?...I did...And.I. Would. Do. It. Again." Damon yelled while he kept kicking an unconscious Xaviar.

When Damon was satisfied with his assaults on his former best friend, he left Xaviar at the back of the alleyway when he'd thought the mafia was dead. Unfortunately for Damon, Xaviar wasn't. 

----------

Just past midnight, Andy stumbled out of the night club pissing drunk while clutching a rum bottle tightly against his palms. Not regularly the young man drank, he wasn't much of a drinker at all. But having gotten into a fight, which caused him to lose the only job he was accepted in, he felt it now was the time to let it all out. 

Andy had sat at the bar, thinking he'd only take one drink before leaving. One drink turned into two, and two into three. The next thing Andy knew, he was telling all his problems to the bartender, Jerry, and spending out every pretty penny he'd had. 

When done, Andy went out, stumbling down the dark deserted alleyway with not a care in the world.

----------

Andy got snapped out of his drunken state when he heard low grunts coming from behind the dumpster where he'd just stop to take a piss. The young man's bloodshot eyes wander about until they fall upon a gloomy shadow of a man. 

Quickly, Andy zipped up his pants, toppling behind the dumpster, only for his eyes to expand toward the dying man who laid nearly lifeless against the cold hardened ground. 

Xaviar.