"KNOCK KNOCK!... KNOCK KNOCK!"
From behind the door came a lively young voice:"FAUST!? YOU IN THERE? I'M COMING IN!"
(For fuck's sake, can people learn how to knock properly? Why are they punching the damn door?)
+ "Yeah, come in.""CAN'T HEAR YOU!"+ "JESUS—JUST COME IN ALREADY!"
The metal door—old but still solid—swung open,and in walked a tall, blond, blue-eyed young man, his face glowing with joy.
"Faust, bro—listen—I've got—so much—SO MUCH to tell you! Can I start?!"
(If you came here just to talk, why the hell are you even asking?)
+ "Go ahead, buddy. What happened this time?"
"They beat the crap out of Mike," the boy said,"and then… they put underwear on his head."
+ "Okay…"
"Okay!? That's it!? They're saying you should go mess them up a bit,you know, short version."
+ "Wait, hold up—are you fucking serious?""Yeah, why?"+ "Mike literally wrecked a whole group yesterday.So who the hell could've beaten him?"
"Well…" the blond scratched his neck awkwardly."He lost a bet again. The guys who fought him weren't even strong,but to make things 'fair,' they made some kind of deal."
The moment Faust heard the word deal,his face darkened so fast it was almost terrifying.If a stranger had walked in right then,they could've accused him of a dozen crimes just from his expression—furrowed brows, tired eyes, clenched teeth, and a vein pulsing on his forehead.
The young man froze. He could feel something was off—his instincts screamed danger. Still, he managed to stammer out:
"Faust? You… okay, man? You look like your head's about to explode."
"I'm great," Faust said with a disturbing calmness."Really. In fact, I'd say I feel wonderful.Don't let my face fool you—I'm so, so… SO damn happy right now."
"If you say so… I guess?"
Faust got up from his probably mold-infested bed,cracked his back, stretched his arms, and flexed his hands.
"What time is it, Lieben?"
"Last I checked, around eight. Want me to check again?"+ "No need… wait, morning or evening?""Morning. Also… are you serious?You've been in here for days—no sleep, no food.Take care of yourself, for God's sake."
+ "Shut it, you piece of shit.If I needed sleep, I'd be asleep, wouldn't I?"
(Long story short, the times I thought I was sleepingwere apparently in the morning,and now, because Mike decided to screw around at dawn,I have to go chase his sorry ass instead of fixing my sleep schedule…Do I have to? Really?)
+ "Lieben, I've got some fantastic news…You're the one going to pick up Mike."
"Wait—what? Me?"
+ "Pretty sure you'll be fine.If they needed to make a deal just to punish Mike,then they can't be that tough.I doubt you'll have any real trouble."
(I mean, I do have my doubts,but keeping my good mood is clearly the higher priority.)
"Fine… I'll try.It's not like I can say no to you anyway.Just—please—if things go bad,and I mean again, don't be late this time.I'm begging you."
"Of course, sir."
When Lieben finally left Faust's room—which looked more like a torture chamber than a living space—Faust slowly scanned the place with sharp eyes,as if sensing something was off, or missing.Still, he stayed calm. After all, it was Wednesday—market day in the village. Half-price deals.For a guy who feeds other people, that's basically heaven.
(Now where the hell are my clothes?I only own five outfits, and four are identical.How could they even disappear in a room this small?Or maybe… someone took them?Is there seriously a person around herewho'd willingly, voluntarily,do laundry without me reminding them?Of course not.So yeah, probably someone wore my clothes again.Honestly, I'll give my last name to someone one day,but peace? Never gonna have it.)
Faust opened his old, barely-standing wooden wardrobe.Inside were only a pair of black jeans and a blood-stained tank top.
"When you open your closet and that's all you see,you really feel like crying…but hey, men don't cry, right?"
(Whoever said that can go to hell.It sounds cool until you actually want to collapse.)
He stripped off his dirty clothesand changed into the jeans and the disgusting tank top.The jeans were stiff, the shirt smelled awful,and his face clearly showed the pain of resignation.
"Alright, let's go.The outfit's trash, but—hey! My shoes are clean!"
That's right—his shoes weren't fancy,but they were spotless, unlike everything else he owned.Feeling a hint of regained confidence,Faust left his room and walked through the grim, narrow hallstoward the exit.
"I really hope you had a good reason for taking my clothes…Because if not—I'll kick your ass."
Crystal clear.