It was late morning, close to noon when I returned to the office one day. “Franklin?” I called out as I opened the door, “I’m here!”

“Aaron! Come! I have something for you!” called Franklin immediately afterwards.

I suppose I should account for the pathetic state of my office ever since Franklin had arrived. It had only worsened for the next few days he stayed where everything became a mess! As for space, I share the building with several other clinicians whom I don’t speak to often or at all. We were given a floor each for our respective clinics. Directly above me is a pharmacy of sorts, run by a small young lady. Her identity escapes me for she is as unremarkable as a character as her role in this story.

Somehow, Doctor Dean soon played a big role here. He had an underground surgery space in the basement. His dark skin and bright eyes are the most prominent thing about him. His eyes were striking - bright yellow with a cyan outer band that consistently widened when he saw something displeasing. A stuck-up man. I’ve gotten a few phone calls from him recently, asking about my guest as of late.

“This Franklin you speak of...” he began rather gravely as I spoke to him over the phone. “He’s grieving?”

“Yes,” I replied. “Is he too noisy when he cries? I apologise… But please do forgive him! I ask for-”

“No. Nothing like that, Doctor Alber,” he interrupted. He took in a deep breath and continued. “I want to ask for some time with you as soon as possible. I believe I have a thing to do with him.”

“How so? Why don’t you come up here yourself?”

“I cannot, Doctor Alber,” he replied. “Seeing me would cause him to go in a rage. (No, he didn’t explain why.) I would just meet you at my clinic. I’ll see you in the late afternoon over dinner; tell this Franklin to go home if he can. Goodbye, Doctor Alber.”

“Aaron!” Franklin’s voice distracted me the second I put the phone down. He handed me a thick stack of letters, all written in the span of a few hours, he claimed, for he suddenly felt a rush of passion one hour in the dawn. I was told to take my time reading everything for he felt so flustered that he feared that I couldn't understand him. I gave him a light smile and the promise that I would do so properly in my office as he cooked breakfast for us.

My "office" was the wooden chair I sat the fateful night before and a crooked coffee table. I laid the papers out in chronological order based on the legibility of his handwriting. With this, I shall now attempt to tell you what he had written for me, though they will be in my own words - not his. They are written as horribly as his shamelessness with my space so I will do more work.

A week or two after meeting James, Franklin had the opportunity of meeting him again! However, there was something unpleasant that happened prior. There was that meeting with a gentleman named Friday Flint, an old friend I guessed. Bluntly speaking, I believe Franklin was far too harsh with his descriptions of him in the letters.

Mr Flint is an overweight man with a pair of outstanding canines that complimented his red eyes that consistently reflected a threatening and dangerous hunger. Based on my knowledge, Franklin and Friday knew each other for a while in the UEC. Supposedly, Friday was once a handsome man with a lanky frame and bushy red hair. However, something went wrong and now he has several tattoos and wears ill-fitting dress shirts, much to Franklin's disgust.

Franklin loathed the idea of spending one minute with this unsightly fellow. He stank, he was horrid and he lacked proper conduct. He got drunk regularly and often took Franklin to neon-lit dark alleyways to make company for eccentric characters. It was peculiar but take note: this was Franklin's company, not mine.

They met up with a character named Ju Hong in a bar in the late afternoon in the centre of town. They first engaged in some pleasant conversation about the weather, their families and the latest golf game that happened not too long ago (Ju and Friday got into a heated banter about whether or not the winner should've been the winner). Forty-five minutes went past with the banter and Ju served the men up some lime water before walking away to do something else, so they were sober the whole time.

"Ya heard of the new sighting?" Friday asked almost shortly after Ju left them.

"No, I have not," Franklin replied innocently.

A terrifying hunger flashed in his companion's eyes and Franklin visibly flinched.

"They say, he's a pretty one. We don't know his name. You know about it?" Friday asked again, a little more insistent.

Franklin seemed to be rather irritated for he began explaining his rageful thoughts in an impassioned and illegible manner. He collected himself though and confusingly replied, "I may have. I may not have. I don't exactly remember, my father's debts are finally getting to me (he lied about this part!) but if you have a clue, do tell, I'd love to know!" I had to let out a deep sigh at his words.

"You're ridiculous," Friday remarked correctly. Upon that request, he seemed to glow slightly in Franklin's eyes. In his words, "That pig looked like the devil himself - a fire burned around him and a sensuous smile that showed his delight in feeding his prey to be so big and fat for his liking and taste. I was a little scared but I had to hold myself if I wanted to be free of him. I had to."

Franklin later complained that Friday spread his legs out too widely and leaned in too close for his liking. Poor man, I thought. Franklin had the misfortune of smelling whatever that was in between his legs and it did not smell quite right.

As Franklin tried his best to remove himself from the dreadful stench, Friday began speaking. "This new one's an officer. A tough one. He looked like a fucking badass, I didn't think he's one of 'em. He talks like one of 'em assholes that raided a bank or somethin'?"

"What was he doing then?" Franklin asked politely, not interested.

"I don't know. He lookin' for somebody, I think," said Friday, a little confused about his experience. "Some kid."

Franklin seemed a little confused and so am I right now as I'm reviewing this. There were no particular missing children cases in the area that I was aware of to make an appropriate reference to, so I was curious. Unlike me, Franklin dismissed his doubts quickly.

"Maybe we can offer our assistance?" Franklin said decisively, winking assuredly. Friday seemed suspicious, rightfully so. I chuckled. I imagined Franklin tilting his head down - not to cry like before I assure you - but to show the dark look in his eyes. A slight sadistic grin would've curled up as he turned to face Friday, suddenly in control for once.

"To hell!" Friday cursed.

Franklin laughed as if calling him a fool. "Tie him up. If he cannot pay us back (we will set the price for our time to be impossibly high), he would do the next right thing for this kingdom," Franklin explained himself. A heavy atmosphere hung above the gentlemen the next moment and the bar grew quiet. I would be a liar if I didn't say that I wasn't a little bit impressed. In my thoughts though, I wondered if he had lost his mind or if he truly believed in them.

Anyways, Friday accepted this unnervingly quickly with a hefty laugh. It wasn't a bad idea, I must admit. It seemed logistically simple enough and it didn't involve complicated matters with the law since it was a private matter. Whether or not the plot succeeded was not of great importance. Simply assisting an exhausted man to achieve something beyond him is invaluable. I nodded in approval for the wittiness of the plan, but doing so is unrighteous; It's too cruel. 

They shared another conversation about a completely unrelated matter for a few more minutes before leaving the bar and exiting to the street.

"Leave this to me, Friday," Franklin spoke the moment both men were ready to leave. "I'll let you off today."

"Don't get cocky, kid! Ya still-"

"Okay! Have a pleasant day!"

Franklin had hastily taken off from there. In the end, he had never felt lighter than this. I, on the other hand, felt a heavy pain in my chest. There was nothing more unappealing than passionately smudged ink over childishly large words.

Franklin started walking down the street aimlessly. It was a warm and pleasant summer evening when he was finally free of this "worldly burden". The sky a bright tropical blue with streaks of reddish-pink spread out across it like paint. There was some yellow glow of the setting sun in the distance beyond some trees. As Franklin walked down the street, it seemed so conveniently timed that food trucks and cheap restaurants lit up. In less than a few minutes, a good stretch of the street was illuminated.

Franklin decided to stop by a small food truck and bought himself a large slice of pie. "Aaron! It's not just any pie!" He corrected my narrative passionately (at this point, he had made his current presence quite clear with eggs and bitter coffee). "It's a Pizza Pie! It's rich, messy and full of salty cheeses! The tomato sauce is acidic yet so thick and hefty, like homemade soup! What delightful comfort food! To top it all off, the crust is buttery and very crispy! Wonderful culinary delights!"

I nodded in understanding, it's about the small things in life.

And so, he stood outside of a small abandoned restaurant and ate the pie with a childishly large grin. With the added information, I would not tell you about the taste but rather how cheese would get stuck to his new suit. After one bite, thick strings of mozzarella clung to his lower lip and spots of bright red sauce would quickly appear on his suit. He struggled frantically to wipe his clothes off the food stains. He cursed Friday as he did so, blaming him for every minor inconvenience. I assume it was habitual to do so.

"Do you need some help?" a disembodied voice chuckled lightly.