Sebastian

five months before the Tower

“Isn't that a pyramid scheme?” A tired and hoarse voice says, the voice belongs to an elderly man sitting on a rundown sofa in a moldy office in the heart of Vancouver. “I'm not sure if this is for me”.

In front of him there's a young man of ordinary appearance, black eyes, black short hair, average height and fair skin. If you go out on the streets you might see countless other men exactly like him, and that's why Sebastian Morin is perfect for his job. Although being the son of parents who did just the same as he's currently doing helped in his career ascension.

Sebastian smiles, “Don't worry Sir, this is legitimate. Pyramid schemes have no pay guarantee for those at the bottom, we on the other hand provide a one hundred percent profit return in the first month of sales, we will connect you with clients and even assist you in your first sales”.

The elder sighs. “Even so, spending all of my retirement savings on this…”

“It's an investment!” He exclaims, making a worried expression. “I understand your distrust, but I can assure you in one month you'll have double your investment and will be able to buy that house you wanted so much for your daughter”.

“I should talk with her before deciding, I'm too old to be hitting door to door”, the elder insists, but Sebastian doesn't let him get up.

“Of course Sir! It's a huge investment after all.” He pauses pretending to be thinking before making a sad expression. “It's unfortunate that we won't be here tomorrow, though, we will be attending a conference in London”, he claims. “It's truly a pity, I sincerely wish you would embrace this opportunity”.

The elder pauses, his expression is one of worry, worry that he'll truly lose this opportunity. “What can I do?” The man asks, clearly conflicted. Got him, Sebastian thinks with a kind smile. “I can't make such a huge investment without my daughter’s opinion”.

“That's true indeed, Sir. And I wouldn't want you to feel pressured either, I would give you all the time you need if it were possible…” he trails off, pretending to ponder before saying: “We could hold off a vacancy for you and when I return from London we can finish the deal”, he snaps his fingers, as if he just had a genius idea. “I would only need one third of the investment, and you wouldn't lose the opportunity. How about it?”

After a bit more back and forth, the elder man finally agrees to pay the holding fee and leaves looking excited holding the papers of the “contract” he just signed. Once alone, Sebastian leans back onto the sofa with a sigh.

“Damned indecisive fucker”, he whispers to himself, checking the clock of the office he rented in cash with a fake name, the elder man was his last appointment of the day. So he gets up. “Time to clean up”, he stretches before grabbing the gloves on his pocket.

He deep cleans the office, bleaching everything and making sure there's not a single surface with his fingerprints on it. Hovering the floor and putting everything he touched and used inside his bag, just so then he finally leaves the office. 

A good actor never gets out of character when it matters the most, so he continues his act on the hallways, making sure his face is caught in all cameras and walking normally like an office worker finishing an exhausting day of work. He even pretends to be on an important work call when he gives back the key to the doorman. His mannerisms, the unlit cigarette on his fingers that he never lit up pretending to try to before angrily putting it back on the pack and grumbling on the phone. 

Then he walks, and walks, taking a bus before arriving at a more isolated area of the city with no cameras.

“For fucks sake, so much work for measily fifty thousand”, he grumbles before entering an alleyway and opening his suitcase. First he rips all the papers and takes off his clothes, burning it all while he puts on dirty old clothes, with a wet cloth he takes off the make-up that was hiding his beauty marks and the small scar he has on his chin.

Messing his hair to give himself a more dirty appearance, and finally taking off the contact lenses, revealing his actually gray eyes instead of the common black ones. 

At last he uses a knife to rip the bag to shreds and tosses it inside of a dumpster. With a bottle of alcohol in hand he pours part of the liquid in his shirt and legs, making sure to leave some that he puts in his mouth, swirling around before spitting out. “Tastes like shit”, he complains before sitting on the ground and watching the fire. 

The only things left from his previous clothes are his phone, wallet, keys and the money those “clients” gave him. But no one would try to rob him at the moment as he not only stinks like alcohol but is also holding a kitchen knife. 

He closes his eyes for a moment. “Should I go see mom? Or dad?” He wonders.

His parents have been in prison since he was 15, not that Sebastian ever resented them for it, after all, they're the ones who taught him this work. Deceiving people for money, be it the weak or the strong, what matters is getting out on top in the end.

Although Sebastian does more petty cons, stealing from the elderly and sick, his parents did bigger stunts, stealing from high-security houses and even museums, however Sebastian has no wishes for jewelry or old paintings, all he wants is money and a peaceful life.

From birth to adulthood he was included in his parents' schemes, and he had a knack for it, so even after his parents were arrested he still continued the criminal lifestyle, with lower stakes crimes, of course, but illegal schemes nonetheless.

His eyes jolt open with the sound of his phone ringing. Mom, he thinks as he looks at the unknown caller I.D., his father would never waste his precious call with Sebastian, not because he loves him any less, but because his father liked the high of calling the man who's house he was arrested stealing, no matter how many times the man changes his phone number, every week Sebastian father would call him to remind him of his existence.

Quickly picking up and waiting until the automatic message from the prison's phone is over, he closes his eyes again. “Hi Sett baby”, his mother says with her overly sweet voice. I'll need to change my phone again, he thinks as the police are probably looking for him through his mother's calls, not that they'll be able to arrest him anytime soon.

Sebastian’s parents enjoy using fake names and nicknames for everything in their lives, be it marrying, buying a car or registering the birth of their only son.

Even if when they were arrested the police managed to get their real name, they weren't able to find the registry of their son and partner in crime. 

Although Sebastian Morin is his real name, his parents Bonnie Morin and Clyde Morin weren't theirs. During jobs they also used codenames, the last time his parents even called him Sebastian was when he was at his tenth birthday in Bali. 

For anonymity, his parents and he used codenames while talking with each other and others in the same work area as them. The codenames they used were inspired by the Egyptian gods.

Sebastian was Sett, a very distasteful codename if you ask him. They chose such a name due to the fact that when he was a baby he never cried during jobs, even if he was startled or got hurt. And also his tendency to enjoy chaotic and dangerous situations. His parents codenames were Geb and Nut, also inspired in Egyptian mythos, not that Sebastian ever cared enough to research the meaning behind his parents choices. After all, one of the reasons why it took so long for the police to arrest them was due to their knack of using extremely random nicknames and codenames during work.

They say it was fun to choose names that meant something yet nothing at the same time. Such practice is still used by their son in his cons, but when he's not in disguise he still uses his real name, always making sure to leave a trail of how innocent he is. From an orphaned student that lives with distant relatives, to now a child that lost his way and is now living on the streets. Having fifty thousand in cash hidden inside his worn out hoodie while he stinks like alcohol and failure was quite the thrill.

Sometimes he would dress up as himself, usually when he wanted company for the night or when he was changing towns, but he's been in Vancouver for a while. Maybe it's the nostalgia of his home or the strong scent of the city. It's comfortable here.

Even if he'll need to be on the move soon again. Maybe I really should go to London, he closes his eyes, the distant voice of his mom echoing in his ear as she rambles about her day.

“Mom”, he interrupts her. “How's dad doing?” He asks, thinking about going down to the States to see his father before flying off to Europe.

“Your father? He's been great, he keeps bragging about being a model prisoner in his letters, are you thinking about visiting him?” Her tone is calm, even if the police were to try to track Sebastian’s phone or to make an ambush at his father's prison, it would never work.

Last time he visited as a warden, this time he might go as a priest. Even if it is a high security facility, there's always a weak link.

“I was just worried that he might go crazy without you around”, he mumbles, opening his eyes again to stare at the fire, burning away the evidence of his wrongdoings. “He might end up going so crazy and start believing in things he never did”.

His mother's laugh echoes across the phone. “I wouldn't put it past him, I wonder if we could ever do a conjugal visit between the prisons”, she says with a tired sigh. “I miss my teddy bear”.

“That's utterly disgusting mom”, he winces. “You just have three more years left so”.

And it's not like they couldn't escape at any given moment, they just chose not to, as to taunt their captors, the pleasure of leaving completely clean just to go back into their old ways but better, it would make everything taste so much better. Or at least those were his parents' justification for not escaping prison although they could.

“Yes sweetie, I miss you, when will you be visiting?”

“Oh mom, you know I can't say”, he chuckles.

“Just remember to eat well. Oh… my time is almost out”, she mumbles, her tone sounding disappointed. “I'll tell your father you're doing well”, she sighs. “Sett dear, I love you.”

“Love you too, mom, I'll send you something soon”, he says, closing his eyes again, taking a deep breath.

“Sure baby, take care”, with those words the phone call ends.

He sighs before getting up. Killing the fire and scattering the trash remaining on various corners of the alley before spilling the rest of the alcohol in his bottle on top of them and breaking the bottle also on the wall of the alley.

Sebastian walks around the streets before he walks enough to enter another alleyway. Placing his phone on the ground and stabbing it with his knife a few times, then breaking it apart with his hand. He walks a while more, entering a few places to buy food. The disgusted and annoyed look of passerbys as he pretends to be extremely drunk is worthy of his acting. At every place he shops he throws away a piece of the phone, at last entering another shop to buy a new one.

He uses his money all crumpled up in order to not raise suspicion and he always buys the most basic of phones even if he does have enough money to buy a good one. He'll just end up breaking it and buying a new one either way.

After all that walking, he goes home. His parents kept a few apartments bought in aliases in a few cities around the world, and Sebastian uses them whenever he wants to sleep properly or get a change of clothes.

Using the same place all the time could draw the police’s attention so he needs to make sure he avoids cameras and witnesses as he walks towards the rundown building.

Once he enters the apartment he collapses on the slightly mold smelling sofa.

“My head hurts”, he whispers to himself, closing his eyes, even if he still stinks of alcohol and dirt he falls asleep there, tired after a good day of work.