(edited)

Sat in a darkened space were five boys in utter silence.

Their postures were tense and retracted, and their eyes glued to the dusty floors. Some had scared tears gliding down their young appalled faces, others had their jaws pressed shut until it hurt. Some had already tried to make escape attempts, and chat for escape plans, but they all proved unsuccessful for everyone.

The squared room was small and looked like it hadn't been cleaned in weeks, making it's smell muddy and unpleasant. There were no windows, and the polished walls were made of gelid concrete.

Apart from the three small leather couches shoved on each side, where the boys sat, was a desk and a chair, standing in the middle of the room, completely empty except for a big crystal ashtray filled to the top.

Excluding the fact that none of the five had gotten any sleep that night, they were not sure for how long they had been shoved in there. It was all a blur inside their heads, and their eyelids, although heavy, felt unable to shut, scared for their imminent futures.

The youngest of the bunch with smeared black liner, running down from his agitated green eyes to his pink cheeks, had been the loudest of them all so far, scratching off his nails dark crimson stains, practically shaking underneath his pink sheer blouse, his long curls hiding his face from the strangers he had been forced inside a room with. He started hyperventilating at some point but none of the others noticed, locked in their own crumbling worlds of rage and sorrow, wondering still why they had been brought to this unrecognizable place and locked out with no explanation whatsoever.

In the silenced room were suddenly heard faint steps. The screech of a rusty door echoed on the space and incandescent lamps charged up making the boys squint their eyes, unable to endure the harsh lighting.

But as their sight normalized, adjusting to the new ambience, they quickly realized someone had come to check on them.

An unfamiliar man, followed by two massive figures, dressed in black, walked inside and sat down comfortably in front of the desk, ten eyes intently gazing at him as he took a cigarette from the pack he was holding and lit it before even acknowledging the five boys.

After a long drag on the stick his eyes shot up and a friendly smile showed off his yellow teeth.

"Hello!" the man, of small squinty dark eyes and squared features, looked at each and everyone of them.

No answer. Just baffled expressions trying to make sense of this chaotic situation.

"I know all of this may seem unusual. And all of you are, understandably, confused. Perplexed as to why you were kidnapped, and brought here, thrown in a cell with random strangers-... well not really strangers but- ." The man sprouted out yet another smile, resting his cigarette in the ashtray before intertwining his fingers together.

None of the five looked confused. They all looked terrified.

"There's an explanation to all of this, and that explanation is what you all have in common." the man announced, "Are you curious about what it is?" but still no face lit up with curiosity. Unsettled looks were the only thing he got.

Except for one of the boys, definitely the shortest of the five, although the oldest, who had his arms crossed and looked straight up at him, no fear in his blue eyes. But when the man said that, his interest finally peaked. He looked up hearing attentively.

"Tonight all of you committed crimes. The worst crimes you ever committed. And those crimes lead you here. To me. To the thing that will change your lives for good. Forever."

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CHAPTER 1: Boy, where is your common sense?!

BEFORE - 1, 2, 3

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1

In the busy downtown streets of Bradford raced alongside two boys, bumping shoulders occasionally with sly smirks as they sprinted across deserted alleys and sidewalks, jumping over anything in their way.

Their blood pumped through their veins at accelerating speed, their exhilarated breaths filling the morning air around them as they cut through the polluted wind of the city.

"Zayn,..." breathless, Louis, with piercing blue eyes and freshly cut hair, buzzed off the sides, rested his weight on the bricked wall of the alley they had run into. "I think.. he lost track of us... already." The boy scratched over his cheek's stubble as he took long soothing breaths, feeling his muscles relax, his donny accent showing off.

"Oh- didn't notice that." Zayn looked down, his bulging eyes overly aware of his surroundings.

"So, what did we catch?"

"Thirty quid in the wallet, and the posh watch. I could probably sell the watch. It's not a lot..." Zayn looked at the items with disappointed eyes as he took out of his pockets the stolen goods and showed them to Louis.

Louis took an audible and long breath. "I got rent covered this month."

And silence weighed around them.

"Anyways, wonder what the wanker was so gutted about to be chasing after us." Zayn frowned, stuffing the items back in.

Louis shrugged, as unsure as Zayn, and took a cigarette to his mouth to light it, setting his head back on the wall to take a drag, as he looked up and the small line of sky visible from the alley, putting the pack and lighter away.

Zayn watched Louis' expression relax, as smoke left the boy's red lips. His cheeks had developed a pink tinge after all the running and the tiniest break of sweat made Louis's skin shimmer. Zayn gulped in dry before his mouth opened, allowing his tongue to lick his bottom lip unconsciously.

"What?" Louis wrinkled his forehead although a small smile danced on his face.

"No sharin'?" Zayn got very close to the blue eyed bloke, blinking softly at him.

"Tosser." Louis rolled his eyes, breaking eye contact as he grabbed the pack and lighter, shoving it to the boy's chest pulling him away.

"At what time did you say Lottie arrived?" Zayn layed back on the brick next to Louis, lighting his own cigarette instead of sharing the one on Louis's mouth like he originally intended.

"Five, I reckon." Louis said uneventfully, squinting his eyes to keep smoke from them as he took the longest drag yet.

"Don't you feel like someone is watching us?" Zayn suddenly said, backing off the wall and looking around.

"What do you mean?" Louis frowned.

"Hey, twinks!" A harsh voice yelled from the other side of the alley.

"Shit!" Zayn cussed under his breath as he readied for a sprint, his cigarette still tightly clinging to his hand as he hit his friend in the arm for him to follow.

But Louis wasn't on the same page. His gut had tightened and his fists had clenched, as he glared at their chaser.

"What the fuck did you call me?" The blue eyed boy flickered the remains of his cigarette off to the ground and took two firm steps to front the beast.

"Loueh, come on." Zayn pulled on the other boy's sleeve, looking out for the still man that could at any minute take flight and come beat the shit out of the two lanky boys.

Zayn knew Louis could throw a firm punch. In fact he'd seen it many times before, but he wasn't sure what fate had in store for them if Louis did throw one right now. The tiny lad was no match for this gorilla of a man that so endearingly desired his possessions back.

"Give me my things, you faggots." The humongous man put his hands in his pocket, reaching for something.

And Zayn was not gonna stand there to find out what it was he reached for. "Loueh, let's go. Now!" But Louis had his teeth gritted like a hostile dog.

"Stop calling me that, you motherfucking cunt." Louis spit before the man revealed what his pocket kept.

"Loueh, he has a blade!" Zayn's eyes widened watching the sharp metal tool shine their way, but the stupid boy remained there.

So Zayn grabbed onto the other's jumper and tugged constantly, in an attempt to alert the blinded fool. "He's gonna shank us, you idiot!"

And then Zayn's fear turned true, the man flew from the other side of the alley, where he first stood, knife in hand. "Fuck, shit, Loueh come the fuck on."

It took the beast being three meters away from them for Louis to realize he didn't stand a chance. That playing like this, Louis was playing with his only life.

So neither of the boys looked back, they ran.

2

"Leeyum..." Something moist and hot wet the outside of the sleeping boy's ear, making him groan.

"I'm sleeping!" He pushed away slowly whatever was close to him, but it wouldn't bulge.

"Sweetheart," he felt the hot breath of someone close to his face. "it's the second time this week."

"Shush..." Liam whispered, covering his face protectively.

"You need to go home." The voice that had called his name before was now farther away, but it was louder somehow. "This is no life for you, manchild."

"He is not awake yet?" A different voice sounded. "His dodgy friend called last night, you heard? I never get what he says clearly,... mental that one, I tell yah."

"Think we should worry about him?"

"You mean Liam?" the other voice asked, indifferent. "Nah, he'll always be a cock-up. He's fine. Wake up, boss, go sleep in your own house. I need to clean that couch." somebody shook his side.

Liam rubbed his eyelids and groaned further, in frustration. "Come on..." He felt two taps on his shoulder before peeking to see where he had woken up.

It was Bleta, with her short yellow hair wrapped in a ponytail, wearing morning robes.

Liam looked around. There he was again, in the middle of the smoke smelling bar, waking up in a red velvet couch. Around him there was already the busy motion of mornings, the start of another day essentially, but the boy remained unbothered.

"Why is it a problem for me to crash here? You do." Liam slowly sat up squinting at the red glass cup full of a dodgy looking mushy purple drink the girl was handing him.

"Yes, but if I go home we lose business." She pointed out, slouching on the sofa next to Liam. "Here, drink."

"What is this?" Liam's nose wrinkled.

"Daikiri." She answered when the boy finally took it in his hand, smelling the weird substance. It only smelled like one thing, rum.

"Isn't daikiri supposed to be red?" The blonde girl shrugged, taking something from her pocket.

"Here is your share of the night." She handed him a thin stack of cash folded in one, smiling.

Liam stopped trying to smell the drink and gulped it in on chug. After all it had rum in it, and Liam was never one to deny alcohol.

He put the empty cup down on the small table in front of them, wrinkling his face for the flaming ache in his throat that lingered before looking at the money in her hand, his eyebrows rising on his forehead. "Just take it." She shoved it into his chest making the boy grab her hand and slide the cash off it.

The boy looked at the money, examining it. He frowned viciously. "So little?" He protested.

"The guys had to go tend to a little problem." Bleta got up, her dark brown eyes landing on practically anywhere but Liam's face.

"None of the boys worked last night?" Liam stomped behind her all the way to the old wooden counter of the bar, his voice stern. "Why?"

"Godfrey's back." One of the boys passing by answered for Bleta who put away clean cups, procrastinating an answer.

"God fucker! He is?" Liam's eyebrows rose, only for his expression to fall into confusion seconds later. "Since fucking when? Why am I being informed of this just now?"

She rolled her eyes and took a deep sonorous breath. "Relax, he didn't cause trouble, we got it handled."

"Yes, you have it handled till you do no longer. Who took him last night? I wanna have a chat with'em." Liam grabbed his jacket out of the small mop cupboard on the side, straightening himself as he did so.

"Not one of ours. It was that kid across the street, you know the one, the boyfriend."

"Yeah, I know the one! Kid's caused enough problems. I just don't understand why are we wasting time on him?!" Liam's teeth gritted, his chest lit in flames.

"I think everyone around here fancies that kid." The girl smiled oblivious, or much more likely, trying to make herself oblivious to Liam's fury.

The ugliest frown took over Liam's face. "Why?"

3

"Hey, Styles!" Liam crossed the road as he spotted the curly haired kid already leaning against a fence close by. He passed his hand through his messy bed hair, embracing the cold weather and putrid smell of puke that this particular street always had in the mornings.

It was tiny and on the outskirts of the city, so just the right amount of isolation from surveillance. It allowed crime to be born and bred fast like some sort of infestation, but it wasn't just the reality for this street alone. In fact the whole city rebelled in crime.

"You again?" The cheeky boy looked the other way with a polite smile. "I already told you, I'm fine on my own-"

"Why the fuck are you keeping my boys from working? Are you flirting with them or some shit?" Liam's voice was harsh and it left no doubt what he wanted for an answer, he came closer in a threatening manner, his gaze dead set on the bloke.

The chap's green eyes widened. He took a step back but quickly regained his balance. "You don't want to work for me, that's fine, but don't make me lose business too."

"I-agrhh-....'m sorry, it won't happen again." The green eyed, long legged bloke said quietly expecting Liam to leave and it be the end of things.

Liam on the other hand felt perplexed, aware of how rare it was to confront someone around here and get such a response. Actually Liam had already accepted that he might have had to leave here today with some blows to the head.

"Oh,... hum.... brilliant. Glad we got that settled!" The brown haired lad took one or two doubtful glances at the curly kid before stuffing his large hands in his tiny pockets and with one last glare of confirmation, one last confused glare, he walked away heading home.

He wasn't sure how long it took him to get to his street, nor had he perfect recollection of how he got there to be honest. It felt as if he was in an undead state all the way to his building, practically sleepwalking.

Liam had been distracted thinking about the earlier situation so much that he hadn't noticed. But when he came back to consciousness he heard steps behind his, cracking in the silent street, and maybe it was the hangover talking but it made Liam feel uneasy. How long had this person been behind him?

He stopped dead in his tracks, only to hear the steps fade away into inexistence. His heart jolted. Why had they stopped?

Liam didn't dare to look back. He started walking away,... and there were the steps again, right behind him. Liam squirmed in tension, his pace fastening as he longed to reach the front door. When he got there he bumped it open and shut it quickly with a thud and no time to wait for the lift. His unsteady feet ran up the stairs of the building and reaching the third floor he found his best mate's door.

"Niall! Let me in!" He screamed, crashing his fist senseless against the wooden door.

Finally the door made an unlocking sound, making Liam step off to let it open. "I thought I had told you not to bother me at night."

"It's ten a.m., tosser! Sod off!" Liam shoved his hand to push Niall away, who stumbled back caught off guard by the other's abruptness.

Liam rushed his way toward one of the closed curtains, barely noticing the putrid smell of sweat and morning breath that stunk the house, and slide it open vigorously, his bulging rapid eyes penetrating through the glass window down to the street he'd just come from.

And there it was. Liam froze in the spot.

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QUESTION 1: What is happening in the opening scene?

QUESTION 2: Why is somebody following Liam?

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Next update: 29.10.18, Monday