This chapter contains mention of dark themes (drugs, abuse and more) read at your own discretion. IT ISN'T FUNDAMENTAL TO THE STORY, JUST AN EXTRA TO UNDERSTAND THINGS MORE CLEARLY.

Jack said he would call the designer, but he first had to run an errand for his sister. He soon left, leaving me alone in the lounge with my things and the notebooks he made for me. I was quite curious about him, he always had a gentle expression but I thought something about him was off. So I picked up the notebooks and searched for his pages.

Meanwhile, outside...

I walked past people, all of them giving me strange looks thanks to my height. I was used to standing out in the crowds, so I hid my hair with my jacket's hood. It was already getting dark, the winter air blowing softly against the city life. I wasn't used to it, the big buildings, the unending constant light, the huge crowds of people walking around. It was all the contrary of where I grew up in.

I had never lived in a city until Mr. Yooru found my sister and I in the streets. He was on a bussiness trip on the countryside and our paths collided. Quite literally. You could say we owe him our lives, since he took us out of a living hell.

I sighed, remembering those times.

My 10 years old self ran. He ran as fast as he could to get away from the man I once knew as my stepfather. Since the death of his ex-wife and my real mother, he fell into depression. Me and my sister wanted to help him, we always did our best to make his day brighter and happier. Until one day, we he hit her when she wanted to show him a drawing she had made of us three. Tat day, was the day the abuse started.

Since I was 8, I knew that the world was messed up. I had gone to the police with my little sister several times, but not even broken bones or deep wounds could convince them. My father had connections with them, he was an ex-police Sargent after all. The only thing we got in the Police Station were pity glances and sorry whispers.

When I was 15, he made me work as a stripper in a club. It was horrible, each time that sun set I feared for my life and prayed to God that he let me make it to the next day, even though I never had believed in any religion. If God was so great, why didn't he save people like us? I never asked anyone to make me dance in front of perverted men, most of them married and with kids, that came to a club with minors in revealing clothes making a show unwillingly to relieve their horny desires. I never asked to have a foster father that instead of taking care of me, forced me to bear with his contant abuse and to still be the one to take care of him while I protected my sister. It wasn't fair. Life never was.

When I finally was 17, almost free from him, he almost killed me. But at least, that made us be able to escape from that man.

I entered the house after my work shift as cashier at the sports shop in the centre. Since our father gambled everything he won, I had three works in order to keep the house that he should be paying and our food, along with our education. I could barely keep myself awake, but I had to keep going for just a few months, then I would be legally free from leaving and taking my sister with me.

"Jacob! Come here maldito!" My 'father' shouted.

I sighed and hid the little envelop with my month pay in the inner pocket of my jacket, one that my dad never found or knew about. 

When I got to the living room, I saw him sitting on the little crappy sofa watching our broken down TV. In front of him, an open bag of some type of drugs that he had bought with the money he should be using to maintain himself. Not us, because he held so much hatred towards Lucy and me that he wouldn't give us food even if he were clean of any substance.

"Come here." He said, not even looking at me.
"What do you want sir." I stood a meter away. I had learnt to not approach him much.

He kept silent for a few seconds, even a minute, but soon he looked at me for first time since I had entered the house. His eyes were impossibly red, almost as if blood had invaded completely the white in them, making it disappear without any trace. He smiled. And in that moment I knew that I had to run.

I ran as fast as I could, turning the corner just in time; a knife flew past my head for a few centimetres and stabbed itself in the wall. I almost fell from the scare but recomposed and fled the house as fast as I could. When he stepped out, my stepfather stopped on his tracks. He stood in front of the door, laughing maniacally with his red eyes fixed on me.

"DON'T COME BACK! CHUCHO SARNOSO!" He spat, still laughing as he closed the door.

That day I picked Lucy up from high school and we left everything behind. Free for first time after almost 10 years of suffering. We broke into the house to get our things and all the money we had earned from our works and left, moving to another small city.

Back to the actuality...

I kept walking around the comercial district, a bag with the things my sister asked hanging from my arm. I tucked my hands on my pockets, hiding them from the cold breeze. As I walked I glanced at the shop windows, my reflection appearing on them.

Each time I see myself in the mirror, the scar on my neck reminds me of the man responsible for my suffering. When I was just 14, he scarred my neck by trying to choke me with a wire while I was sleeping. It cut my neck and created that scar. I almost died, but thanks to Lucy I'm still alive and I am thankful for that, since I got to meet the guys of Children of Pain. They understood our suffering in their own ways.

Soon, I was back at the hotel. I entered the building through the back entrance made for celebrities who wanted to move around without been seen even by the staff. The elevator returned me to the suite, where the silence still reigned.

"Jack!" Marcos' voice greeted me as soon as I stepped out of the elevator. "Are you okay? You were out for a really long time, I was worried."
"Sorry, I'm fine." I chuckled and ruffled his hair. His cheeks flushed pink and he tried to cover them up, but I saw them anyways.

Before returning to the lounge with him I went to give Lucy the things I had bought for her.

"Hey shrimp, your things."
"Thanks giant." She smiled, taking the bag.

SPANISH VOCABULARY:

*Maldito = Damned
*Chucho sarnoso = Mangy mutt