This Is A Test For A Book I Am Attempting To Write

Chapter 1

1st Person

"So...What do you do?" The strange man in the expensive suit asks "I'm an art student." I avoid his intimidating gaze by staring at my water.
"What an odd character to be here of all places," he laughs, "with all us criminals." He adjusts his sitting position as I sip on my drink. He leans closer to my face; I can feel his hot, sticky breath on me. "Hmm, alright. I'll tell you my job." He leans back to his original position, "I make sure everyone gets love! If you catch my drift. They have to pay the price required of course a- You know, I could give you a discount of sorts if you wanted. I'll give you my finest."
I snort "Not interested."
He chuckles at my response "Well, I could screw you."
"Sorry, but I'm not interested in diseased whores nor their creepy looking pimp." I deadpan and take a swig of my drink again. He did not find what I said amusing at all. He raises his arm and wraps his massive hand around my thin neck, then he lifts me in the air. It was as if I weighed as much as a small child. My legs are kicking as I'm struggling for air, my nails scratching at his hand.
"Do not say such lies about my property and I don't particularly like being called creepy." He forces a smile and slings me across the bar table, knocking every beverage and peanut off the table. I attempt to scramble up and away only to be shoved to the ground by the same monstrous man. All of a sudden I am yanked away by the collar of my shirt, I look up to see this dude towering above me. I can't see his face since shadows are cast over it.
"Vikter, why are you bothering this kid?" He growls at the creep.
'Vikter' blushes and retorts, "I was just showing the kiddy what consequences his actions here have." I  meekly attempt to correct him, "I'm not a-"
"Well, please stop trying to collect new whores. I'm sure, err... what's your name kid?" He crouches next to me examining me as I rub the forming bruises on my throat.
"First off, I'm not a kid. I am 18, soon to be 19 years old; the name is Delen."
Vikter chuckles "Delen? Isn't that a girl's name?" The mystery man rolls his eyes. I huff and stand up wiping my butt off.
"I told you my name, what's yours?"
"Xander" I look down at the crouched man and flush. I have to look away from his eyes which held a look of menace and unspeakable threats.
"Whelp, I gotta go. Duty calls." Vikter hightails it out the door with Xander and me watching silently as he went. Xander stood up and started out the door, I looked at him in confusion, then I skittered after him and , in a panic, asked,
"Can I draw you?"