C.W.: Abuse, Child Mistreatment, Addiction, Attempted Suicide, Mention of Sexual Assault

Early in the morning, “Jairo Estévez" rose from his makeshift bed —a worn-out mattress— in an abandoned classroom of the psychology department at Saint Louis University. Several days had passed since his unexpected encounter with Lucas, the law professor. It was becoming increasingly clear that he couldn’t keep up the pretense much longer. He was Sergio Edevane, the friend Lucas had once cherished. Life, however, had dealt him blow after blow since the day he was expelled from school.  

To conceal his identity, Sergio had dyed his once-vivid red hair a muted chestnut brown and allowed a thick beard to grow, obscuring his features. The disguise helped him blend in while working as a custodian and maintenance man at the university. It was a desperate measure, born of necessity. The job kept him off the streets and, most importantly, from having to sell his body out of necessity. Obtaining false identification and striving for a semblance of stability was a risk he was willing to take. Not because he was running from justice for some heinous crime, but because he was the victim of lies and a system that had failed to protect him.  

When he was sent to live with his uncle in another city, his life spiraled into horror. The man who was supposed to care for him exploited him in unspeakable ways. To his uncle, Sergio was property —sometimes for his own twisted desires and other times as a commodity traded for drugs. On top of that, Sergio was forced to cook, clean, and serve him, toiling like a servant without ever seeing a penny.  

But the abuse didn’t last forever. One night, Sergio escaped. For years, he had endured sleeping on the cold, damp patio floor, often waking to the sickening sensation of slugs crawling over his body. 

One day, when he saw his uncle passed out after a night of drugs and alcohol, Sergio took his chance. He slipped out through a window, running with no plan in mind —only a desperate need to escape.  

The streets offered their own horrors. Begging, stealing food and clothes, searching for shelter, and witnessing the depravity and desperation of others in his situation became his daily reality. It was a grueling existence, a nightmare he lived for years.  

But, what choice did he have? The woman who had once saved him as a child was long gone, unreachable. And no matter how bleak life on the streets was, it had to be better than enduring the vile touch of his uncle. Alone and unprotected, Sergio faced a world that had shown him no mercy.  

**  

At sixteen, Sergio broke into a convenience store late at night, desperate after three days without food. It wasn’t the first time he had resorted to theft. He moved quickly, grabbing a loaf of bread from the nearest shelf and tucking it under his jacket. His heart pounded as he bolted for the door, but he didn’t make it far. The store owners caught up to him, and their anger unleashed a brutal beating.  

Sergio managed to escape. But as he wandered aimlessly through the dark streets, despair consumed him. Life seemed completely meaningless, and the idea of ending it became the only solution. He felt drawn to a pedestrian bridge, climbing the metal stairs with nothing to lose. The streets below were deserted —there was no one to stop him, no one to save him.  

Standing at the edge, Sergio trembled. His fear was matched only by his anguish. He hugged himself, trying to summon a shred of courage to end it all. However, in that moment, an image surfaced: Lucas Amery.  

Lucas’s face appeared so vividly in his mind it felt as though he was standing beside him. Sergio remembered how much he admired his childhood friend, how Lucas’s mere presence had given him a sense of safety and belonging. If he were there now, Sergio thought, he would have convinced him to hold on. That memory —distant but unique— became the spark he needed to stop himself from doing something reckless with his own life.

The cold night wrapped around him as he trudged aimlessly through the streets, his hands shoved deep into his pockets. Hunger clawed at his insides, and his thin clothes did little to protect him from the chill.

“Just one more night,” he muttered to himself, as if the words could somehow motivate him to survive.  

As he rummaged through a trash bin, the sound of approaching footsteps sent a wave of fear through him. Two men appeared, their clothes as tattered as their intentions were sinister.  

“What are you doing here?” one of them asked with a macabre grin.  

Sergio clenched his fists, trying to mask his unease. “Just resting.”  

“Resting?” the other man smirked, lighting a cigarette. “Maybe we can rest with you. Would you like that, redhead?”  

Their leering expressions left no room for doubt about their intentions. Sergio backed away, his instincts screaming at him to run.