The bang came first makes Leansei wake up from a short sleep.
A fist against wood, loud enough to crack through sleep.
Leansei surfaced slow, blinking at the ceiling. He reached for his phone on the floor.
As soon as he grabbed his phone, Leansei looked at the time and it was 7 o'clock in the morning.
' who could be banging the door this early? '
He was already sinking back to sleep when it came again. Harder. The sound jolted him right out of bed and onto the floor. He got up to see who was at the door early in the morning.
He stood, barefoot, head ringing. "Wait a minute," he croaked, dragging himself down the stairs to the front window.
And then the sleep left him. Mr. Bien. Standing on his porch with two men behind him, arms crossed, smile like a blade. Leansei dragged a hand through his hair and winced.
He'd worked a months straight, Leansei forgot that today is the last day of due, which means he doesn't have enough cash in his pocket at this time, and If he gave Mr. Bien everything from the kept of savings stored in the envelope, he wouldn't eat for weeks. If he didn't, Bien's men would do what they did best.
"Leansei! I know you're in there! Have you forgotten that today is the due date?" Bien shouted through the door.
He had no choice. He palmed half the cash from the envelope, shoved the rest behind the loose board by the window, before opening the door.
"Mr. Bien. Can I have one more day?" His voice was steady. He'd learned early that fear only made men like this hungrier.
Bien threw his head back and laughed. "One more day? There is no one more day. Pay me now, or my boys do their job." a vicious smile from Mr. Bien. The goons of Mr. Bien are the ones who do the dirty work and clean up his illegal transactions.
Leansei didn't know that before his parents died. His father borrowed a lot of money just to spend it at the casino all day. Now he is having a hard time paying it back.
Leansei tried again. "But Mr. Bien, the money that I gave you last time was too much, unlike the deal that we agreed. My father—" Leansei couldn't finish it when a fist came out of nowhere and dropped him to the floor. Pain lit up his jaw and split across his lip. Copper filled his mouth.
Leansei slumped on the floor as he felt the pain in his face and the sting in his lips. But these punches are nothing compared to what he experienced from his passed-away father.
It wasn't the first time he'd been hit. His father had taught him that pain was just noise. This was nothing new.
Bien crouched and fisted a hand in Leansei's hair, yanking his head up.
"That's right! You should give me more regardless of the agreement we have. Your deadbeat father died owing me, so now you owe me!" Mr. Bien then harshly let go of Leansei's hair.
"And I've been paying you for a year." Leansei said, voice flat. Mr. Bein looked at his goons to signal him to close the door. Leansei looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall. The door shut behind them.
Leansei's eyes flicked to the clock on the wall.
'Shit. My shift.' Leansei said in his mind.
Bien was pulling on his brass knuckles now, slow, deliberate. He clenched his hand and looked at Mr. Bien without any emotions nor fear.
Leansei isn't afraid of getting beat up or fighting until death. All he cares right now is the part time job and deduction to his salary. He doesn't care less about dying. Instead, he is scared of dying for nothing.
"Where's the money? Give it to me and we're good." Mr. Bien said, while putting his brass knuckles into his hand.
"I don't have enough money to give you. Give me two days and I'll pay you." Bien hit him before the sentence ended. Stomach. Face. Again.
"Ackk.." Leansei couldn't get up nor feel anything. The world went white, then numb. Leansei hit the ground and stayed there, breathing through blood, waiting for it to pass.
"Search the place," an angry voice from Mr. Bien while rubbing the blood off his knuckles.
Mr. Bien is the most well-known debt collector, and he is also well-known for his illegal transactions, but due to his power, even the police are unable to find dirty work from his hands.
Leansei lay there while they tore through drawers. He'd been hit worse. Hunger hurt more.
"Sir. Found an envelope. Under the bed. It's halfof the money that you have agreed to." A voice from his goon. Mr. Bien looked at the tortured Leansei and hauled him up by the front of his shirt. His breath smelled like cigarettes.
"I'll give you two days to pay me. If not, you'll end up like your father." A threatened voice from Mr. Bien before letting him go and walking out of his apartment.
Leansei felt relieved while listening to the quiet. He laid down on the floor for a while before trying to get up on his feet. But he fell down again because of the pain in his stomach.
He forcedly walked toward the bathroom, he turned on the tap and washed the blood off. His face in the mirror was a mess—bruises blooming, a cut at the corner of his mouth, one eye already swelling.
He groans in pain when his stomach was purple and bruised. Luckily, Mr. Bien didn't punch him more, or he'd be unable to walk or even just stand up on his feet.
But it could've been worse.
He showered and got dressed in a shirt and jeans. He grabbed his sling bag, the black cap, and the envelope from outside the window that was glued to the wall.
The morning was cold. The streets were empty except for crows and the occasional car. He walked around the corner and made it to the bus shelter and sat down.
As he sat in the waiting shed, he glance beside him—two girls beside him were laughing about something—a guy, a party, a name he didn't know. Leansei stared at the road and pressed the bag to his chest.
He had a shift in less than 30 minutes. He had bruises that would need to be hidden. Leansei pushed down the visor of his cap.
He had two days before Mr. Bien clean him up away from this world.
But he was still breathing and for Leansei, that was enough.
"Hey, look. I think it's gonna rain today."
"I think so too. The forecast said forty percent."
"Ahh! Look at that! I wish I got invited."
"Oh, the grand party?"
"I heard the Vcheroi sons are gonna be there."
"Of course they are. They're VIP. They're always VIP."
"I heard Mr. Devon's son is coming too."
"Yess! They'll be all over social media again by tonight."
Leansei looked at his watch since the bus was taking so long.
He glanced beside him, and there was a girl talking about things that he always heard, which was the Vcheroi's son. He was still clueless about who those people were. His life didn't have space for scrolling or gossip or parties. It had space for time cards and rent and due dates.
He flinched when his phone abruptly rang. Unknown number.
He almost let it go to voicemail.
Then he thought: ' what if it's a job? '
He couldn't afford to miss a job.
"Hello?" Leansei said, in line. But there was no response. He's about to end the call when it suddenly spoke.
"Don't visit Grandma anymore." A familiar voice in line. Leansei felt the ache in his heart. For years after they lost contact, he didn't know how to react when he heard his voice again. He was glad and, at the same time, dejected. "Are you listening?" the voice went on. "Don't go to Grandma's. My mother doesn't want to see you. And neither do I."
His hand curled into a fist. "Why?" It was the only word he could get out.
"Just don't. Unless you want trouble with your jobs." Then, the next thing he knew, Tyvan ended the call. He looked at his phone with mixed emotions.
Tyvan Devon is his mutual person more like special to him. They are not lovers, but they are not friends either. Before his grandmother died, Grandma Delin had been the only person who ever looked at him like he mattered. On her deathbed she'd taken his hand and said, "Come visit me. Every year. Don't forget me." And for three years he had. Until Tyvan started answering the door like Leansei was a mistake or never mattered at all. Tyvan suddenly treats him like a stranger or unknown creature. Ever since, Leansei doesn't know the reason why Tyvan treats him that way, and if he asked him, he just got cold replies or the worst.. insults.
Before he got emotional, the bus arrived. He stared at the black screen until the bus hissed to a stop. He climbed inside the bus and tapped his card before sitting near the window.
He tapped his card and took a seat by the window.
Levous City rolled past.
Levous City is a combination of urban and rural views. Half of the city contains industrial buildings and factories. Half the city has trees and beautiful views. Unlike Lemous City, it is full of infrastructure and ruled by powerful rich families..
He looked at the window, there were a lot of beautiful views.
The bus dropped him off ten minutes later and he arrived at the coffee shop and expected that there would be only a few customers.
The coffee shop was quiet. Too quiet for a Saturday.
"Look who finally came in early," one of the crew said, pulling an espresso shot. Then he saw Leansei's face. The bruises. The cut. He opened his mouth, then thought better of it and went back to the machine.
Leansei laughed under his breath.
Leansei wasn't into social at all. He spends time with himself, working and doing things on his own.
Leansei does his routine and goes to the counter to serve and take orders, but there are only a few customers who came today.
"Look!!" A girl from the back, mop in one hand, phone in the other. "Vcheroi's trending again!"
"As if. It's dead in here."
"There's CCTV, stupid."
"Like the owner even checks it."
"That doesn't mean you can use your phone."
"Does it even matter? The owner is not even here."
Leansei laughed under his breath while hearing his co-workers' arguments. He had never had the opportunity to have fun or enjoy himself since he was born. He lived his life in a deep and dark well where there was no way out, or even light to warm his cold body, or even a ladder to escape.
.
A few hours had passed, and the owner told the staff to close early because of a few customers and since it was Saturday. Leansei looked at his watch while walking to make his way to the restaurant. He glanced at the sky and it was heavier now. Gray pulled low over the rooftops. The air smelled different—like metal, like something waiting.
But it had been three and a half years since Levous City had felt the warmth and heard the sound of rain. Some people don't believe that it will rain anymore since it hasn't rained for years, people said if it ever did rain again, it would be a miracle. A blessing.
.
"Just in time." The owner didn't even look up. He was buried behind the counter, hands moving over the register like he'd been born doing it. The dinner rush had hit early. Saturday nights in Levous always did.
Leansei didn't answer. He dropped his bag in the locker room, pulled his apron over his head, and was back on the floor in under a minute. He hadn't expected it to be this busy.
For the next five hours he became motion. Run to table four. Take the order. Run to the kitchen. Run back. Wipe the table. Mop the spill by the bathroom. Refill water. Repeat. His body moved before his brain could catch up.
When his break finally came, he slipped out the back door and leaned against the brick wall. The alley was quiet. The air was cold and smelled like grease and rain that hadn't fallen yet.
His face throbbed. His stomach did too. He pressed a hand to it gently. It growled. He hadn't eaten all day. Just half a roll from the coffee shop that morning. Dry. Forgotten ten minutes later.
"You're here too?" Leansei straightened immediately, pain be damned.
The owner was there, leaning against the doorframe, lighting a cigarette. The flame caught and died, and smoke curled up into the dark. It was almost 8. His shift is nearly over.
"You don't have to be so tense," the man said. His eyes flicked up, took in Leansei's face—the bruise under his eye, the cut at his mouth. "You always look like hell." A pause. Smoke.
"You got into a fight?" the cigarette smoke lingered in the air. Leansei shook his head.
The owner nodded like he believed him and but he didn't. Then he reached into his pocket and pulled out a small paper bag. Inside was a cupcake. White frosting. A single candle stuck in the middle, unlit.
He held it out.
Leansei stared and was surprised but still thanked him....confusedly.
"What—"
"Your salary hit your account," the owner said, cutting him off. "Check it later. And uh. Enjoy your day." He said it like it meant nothing. Like he handed out cupcakes every Tuesday.
He took a drag, exhaled. "And Sei? Don't let yourself get beat up by useless pricks." Then he turned and went back inside, the door swinging shut behind him.
' Why would he give me this? ' Leansei said in his mind.
Leansei looked at the cupcake as he tried to understand the phrases the owner told him. He took his phone to check the date.
He was surprised that the owner knew his birthday. Even Leansei couldn't remember his own day because he was a student at the same time working every day. He never got to talk to him, thank him, or just because he doesn't have enough courage to do so.
Leansei stood there, holding the cupcake like it might break. ' Why would he give me this? '
The thought sat heavy. People didn't do things like that for him. Not without wanting something back. He pulled out his phone with his free hand and then he saw the date at the top of the screen.
April 12. His birthday.
He'd forgotten. Of course he'd forgotten. He forgot most things that weren't rent or shifts or deadlines. But the owner remembered.
Leansei looked down at the cupcake again. The frosting was already starting to melt a little from the heat of his hand.
No one had said happy birthday to him in years. No one had remembered he existed outside of work.
He thought about all the times he'd walked past this man. All the orders taken, all the floors mopped, all the silent nods. He'd never thanked him. Never even really talked to him. He didn't know how.
The alley was quiet again. Above him, the sky was darker.
Leansei sat down on the step, set the cupcake on his knee, and peeled the paper back.
It tasted sweet. Too sweet. It made his throat ache.
He didn't cry. He just sat there, eating a cupcake on his birthday, while the city waited for rain it hadn't seen in three and a half years. For five minutes, he wasn't a worker or a debtor or even a ghost.
He was just a kid with frosting on his fingers.