They spent the next few hours catching up, filling in the gaps from the seven months they spent apart.
They had been close even before all this. After Adrian lost his mother and got dumped into the slums, it was Alex who helped him survive. He was the one who taught him how to live in a world that didn't care where you came from.
Going from a life of comfort to one of hunger and cold had been brutal. But it cracked something open in him. He saw the world differently now. It was rawer, uglier, and somehow more honest.
Alex had started running with a smuggling gang. At first, he had been completely lost, terrified and unsure, barely holding it together. But with help from the veterans, he picked it up fast. He learned the routes, the dangers, and how to slip past patrols and avoid the traps buried in the dark. And for the first time in his life, he was making enough to actually save something.
He spoke of close calls: triggering an old trap, getting lost in the crypts for two full days without food or light. Somehow, he found his way out — a feat, he joked, about as rare as bread in the slums.
Adrian asked about the scar below his right eye, but Alex deflected, shifting the topic so quickly that Adrian didn't push.
Instead, Alex gave him advice. Tons of it. How to survive in the underground — the "crypts," as they called it now. Triple-check every corner. Every tunnel. Carry three times the food you think you'll need. Never trust silence. Never trust a map.
Adrian absorbed every word like his life depended on it. Because it did. If he ever got the job, this might be the only thing standing between him and a cold corner of the underground.
Time passed unnoticed. By the time they realized, the sun had already dipped below the horizon, and night was closing in fast.
Alex glanced toward the only intact window he had, where the last light was bleeding out of the sky.
"You're not walking back now," he said. "Not through this part of the slums. It's dangerous in the day, at night it's worse."
Adrian hesitated. He was about to say something about not wanting to be a bother.
"Seriously," Alex added. "You're staying the night."
He said it like a fact, not a suggestion, and Adrian didn't argue.
So he took the couch, and Alex brought him an old blanket with a few holes in it. But it was enough to keep him warm. They had dinner first. It was not as good as the stir-fry they had before, but it filled his stomach.
It had been a while since he had two meals in a day, and he felt like he could get used to it fast.
Outside, the streets had fallen silent. A surveillance drone buzzed overhead at random intervals, scanning the alleys like it was hunting ghosts.
Adrian lay on the couch, the blanket pulled up to his chin, listening to the distant hum of the drone fade into silence.
There was a time when seeing a drone was rare, a strange little miracle humming through the sky. Then they started showing up monthly. Then weekly. Now, they were part of the background noise. Just another reminder that someone was always watching.
That thought stayed with him as sleep took hold.
...
Adrian woke to the sound of something clattering in the kitchen.
He sat up slowly, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. The room was still dim, lit only by the pale gray light leaking through the window.
Alex was hunched over the stove, stirring something in a dented pot.
"Didn't mean to wake you," he said without looking up. "Figured you'd want something warm before heading out."
Breakfast was soup. Well past the expiration date. But in times like these, it might as well have been gourmet.
After breakfast, Adrian was slipping on his jacket when Alex called out, "Wait a minute."
A few minutes passed before Alex returned from his bedroom, carrying a black backpack. It was worn and scratched, but still sturdy enough.
Alex handed the backpack to Adrian.
"What's this?" Adrian asked as he took the bag from Alex.
Alex hesitated for a moment, then said, "Supplies, maps, and everything you'll need for the job." He let the words hang in the air before adding, "Learn those maps. If the boss gives the green light, you have to be ready."
Hearing that, Adrian grinned. "I'll do my best, thanks!"
Then, just before Adrian stepped out, Alex slipped a small envelope into his hand and quietly shut the door behind him.
Caught off guard, Adrian stared at the closed door for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.
"What's this?" he finally whispered.
But there was no answer. Adrian carefully opened the envelope and found money inside. He pulled out the bills and counted them slowly, five notes totaling 100 dinars.
This was more than he'd made in two weeks working for Uncle Ben. The amount shook him. He almost found himself knocking on the door again, but then he stopped. Alex wasn't going to open up.
He stared down at the bills in his hand, a rare, genuine smile creeping across his face. Quietly, he slipped the money back into the envelope and tucked it into his pocket, his hand remaining there. He was not taking any chances.
The weight of the money in his pocket felt heavy, a rare warmth amid the cold uncertainty of the slums.
He stared at the door for a bit. "Thanks again," he said a bit louder.
The walk back home was scary. He never walked with so much money in the slums. He was trying his best to look normal, but it even hurt his face. But he could get used to this. It felt nice, all things considered.
He got back home and emptied the contents of the bag onto the table. Inside, there was a strong rope, maps, a sharp knife, a flashlight with several spare batteries, dry food, and a few other essential items. They showed signs of wear but still worked fine.
In a separate compartment, he found three cans of food accompanied by a small note that read, "Enjoy the meal."
Adrian just stared at the note for a full minute. He did expect to get some help from Alex, even without asking. He knew Alex felt like he owed him a debt from the past, but still... This was too much.
He just hoped he could get the job and be able to repay him. It has been too long since he had hope for the future. He just hoped it worked out well. He was really desperate to get out of the slums and get a normal and secure life again.
He spent the rest of the day studying the maps, memorizing every twist and turn. Too many passages, too many lefts, too many rights, it felt like his head might split open. One wrong step, and he will be lost.
A detailed legend accompanied the maps, explaining the dozens of markings scattered across them. There was a mark for patrols, traps, dead ends, unexplored tunnels... too many of them.
There were a few marked safe zones, but he wasn't sure what that meant, so he made a note to ask Alex about it.
And just like that, two days passed, he never left the apartment, he just kept studying the maps over and over again. He was determined to make his future better.
After the first day passed without a word from Alex, a knot of worry tightened in his chest. But he threw himself into studying the maps, knowing dwelling on darker thoughts wouldn't help. He trusted Alex would either get him the job or at least try his best. All he had to do was focus and do what was asked of him.
He still had one can left from the food Alex had given him. He rationed it carefully, one can a day. He had enough money to buy more food now, but he wasn't ready to spend it just yet.
The hours stretched long and heavy in the cramped apartment. Adrian's eyes burned from staring at the faded lines and cryptic symbols, but he forced himself to keep going. Every detail mattered. Every mark on the map could mean the difference between survival and getting trapped in the underground's cold, unforgiving maze. Outside, the city groaned and creaked under the weight of its own decay, silence broken only by distant shouts and the occasional whir of a drone.
His stomach grumbled faintly, but he pushed the hunger aside, focusing on the worn maps spread before him like a puzzle he had to solve. The weight of the money in his pocket was a strange comfort. Hope wrapped in paper, fragile but real. He glanced toward the door, half expecting Alex to step back inside with news, reassurance, anything.
It had been four days since he last heard from Alex. Just now, he finished the last scraps of food he had left, carefully rationing that final can to stretch over two days.
He was confident he knew the maps inside and out, yet he kept replaying the routes in his mind, cross-checking every twist and turn on the paper to make sure he hadn't missed a single path.
He stumbled over a few details now and then, but each mistake only sharpened his focus. He thought that after going through the route a few times, he would be able to go through it with his eyes closed.
He didn't really believe that, but holding onto that thought gave him a flicker of hope for the future.
He was pulled from his thoughts by a sudden, sharp knock at the door.
His heart started pounding. This was the moment that would decide whether his future would change for the better.
He felt nervous. He was sure it was Alex, but what news would he bring? Will he get a chance, or will he end up starving again?
He got up slowly and headed for the door.
His hand froze on the handle. He took a deep breath, swallowed his doubt, and slowly pushed the door open.
Whatever came next, there was no turning back now.