A little look at the boy with the blue eyes showed a lot. "Sure, why not," he said, while sitting down again, one of his legs close to Chandler's. Who still avoided eye contact. “As I said, I had a terrible few days. But it looks like, I finally could let of some steam… maybe together,” he said, while putting a hand on the others thigh, who finally looked at him again, with his big blue eyes that looked through his hanging hair. Timothy smiled.

But Chandler pushed it away. “No, didn’t mean it like that,” he said. His face showed anger, but also worry. While staring at a pair of near black looking iris. They revealed his pain and anger he feels inside of him. “How about, you just keep talking? Not such stupid nuances? Open up and show me what hurts you.” Hearing that felt like a shock for Timothy. As if this little boy pushed electricity through every single cell of his body.

“Let’s just get to know each other a bit more. What’s your name?” Chandler asked. “Timothy North,” he answered. He felt like just stopping to resist against him, as if he couldn’t... or rather shouldn't do anything against what he says. “I’m twenty years old. Grew up in a suburb of this city. School normally, some girlfriends, played soccer until I was sixteen. Then, I had a 180 turn.” Chandler laid his chin on his hand, “like what?” he asked.

“My parents got incredibly sick. Both of them worked their asses of to support me, gave me all clothes and games I wanted. A tutor. My Dad had two heart attacks, a stroke. Couldn’t do much after that. And my Mom… breast cancer. She survived through many treatments but it cost all our savings. From there I took a part-time job, stopped all hobbies, even ignored friends for a while. Wanted to take some weight from them.”

Chandler smiled. “Looks like they raised a good child. So… are they still alive?”

Timothy avoided his glance, stayed a few moments into his thoughts. “Yes, of course. But they don’t do good. My routine was going to school, learning, working, sleeping for, like three hours  a night and then repeat. No free time, to provide them some small bucks. And after I turned nineteen and got my highest education, a university was the plan. My parents still had some debts, but through my Mom, who could still keep working, I was able to save up some money for me. Four years of hard working to get into university, spending three thousand for entry and a little apartment. Took a credit, without I could not have survived.” Timothy scratched his head.

“And without my girlfriend… I’d probably be dead by now,” he said, while trying to smile. Trying to hide his tears.