Charlie woke from his bed, rich with soft cotton and comfy blankets. Feeling entitled as usual, he demanded from his bed for the maid to place his breakfast on a nearby table.
"Maria! Breakfast!"
The maid arrived promptly, placed the tray, and hurried outside. Moments later, his mother entered his room with a gentle knock.
"Charlie, darling, won't you come down to eat together? Your Uncle Brack is here," she said with the practiced smile of Boston high society.
Charlie smiled back. "Sure." He snapped his fingers, and Maria appeared as if summoned by magic. "Take this downstairs."
As he prepared to join his family, Charlie caught his reflection in the mirror and smiled. The world worshipped him, and that's exactly how it should be.
In another household across town, Christy woke up with her boyfriend Juan beside her. Her parents entered the room, smiling, to ask if everything was all right.
"Everything's perfect," Juan replied with his winning smile.
The conversation quickly turned to their plans for the day—taking the yacht out, inviting the Vanderbilts, showing off their new jet skis. The easy privilege of their lives wrapped around them like a comfortable blanket, unquestioned and unchallenged.
Meanwhile, in a modest suburban home, Peter, a 58-year-old man, sat at the kitchen table drinking coffee while his wife Helen prepared breakfast. Their son trudged down the stairs, and Peter's face immediately darkened with disapproval.
"Look who finally decided to join the land of the living," Peter said, his voice sharp with disappointment.
"It's 8:30, Dad," Derek replied, helping himself to coffee.
"Don't talk back! When I was your age, I already had a career and a family! Not living in my parents' basement playing video games!"
Derek's face reddened. "It's not just games! I'm developing an app!"
"An app?" Peter scoffed. "A real job pays real money!"
The argument escalated, with Helen trying unsuccessfully to mediate between father and son. The tension in the house was almost tangible, a familiar morning ritual that left everyone exhausted.
Across town in another household, young Alren was reading a book in the evening after school. His father, Mr. James Smith, saw it and was pleased. When his elder brother Colsmen walked in, Mr. James's expression changed dramatically.
"Thank God at least one of my sons is disciplined," James said pointedly. He gestured toward Alren. "Why can't you be more like your brother? Look at him—studying without being told!"
Colsmen's jaw tightened. "Not all people will be the same," he shot back.
The response earned him a sharp slap across the face. Their mother, Grace Smith, rushed to intervene, stopping the fight and asking Colsmen to behave properly. Furious and humiliated, Colsmen stormed out without a word.
Hours later, these lives began to converge at Brittle Stone Café in downtown Boston.
Charlie sat alone at a premium table, flirting with an uncomfortable waitress who had no choice but to smile back at the wealthy regular. Christy and Juan occupied a small table near the window, taking selfies with their designer drinks, their conversation a mixture of gossip and social planning.
Peter sat alone in a corner, checking his watch frequently, perhaps waiting for someone. Alren entered the café with a backpack full of books, seeking a quiet corner to study. Outside, Colsmen paced back and forth, debating whether to enter the café where his father had instructed him to meet the family.
The afternoon sun cast long shadows through Brittle Stone's large windows as customers chatted, worked on laptops, or simply enjoyed their expensive coffee. It was a perfectly ordinary day in Boston.
Until it wasn't.
A black van pulled up across the street from the café. Inside, seven figures made final preparations—checking weapons, securing masks, confirming assignments. Their leader, a 49-year-old man known as "Cactus," gave the final nod.
"It's time," he said, his voice steady and cold.
Beside him, Amerson, 26, checked his watch with methodical precision. "Everyone clear on the plan?"
The others—Ador, Gsnake, Nafia, Paul, and Gasino—nodded silently, their faces now hidden behind masks designed to conceal identity while instilling fear.
They moved toward the café entrance with practiced coordination. Inside, the customers continued their normal routines, unaware that their ordinary day was about to shatter into something unrecognizable.
In one moment, their worlds would collide... and nothing would ever be the same.