The Runaways

One- Dark Haired Jerk

The last thing anyone wants to feel in life is pain.

Me? Well, I've gotten use to it.

Which is why as some imbecile tries to run me down, I completely ignore him.

"Hey crack head! The guy with the black hair! Look over!" This disgusting wannabe gangster yells at me from across the street in this hollow neighborhood.

Dark and eery would be the words to describe where I live. No one in there right mind comes around here.

"Seriously bro, turn your ugly head over here!" He struggles to get me to give him a second glance. I plan on going to the store, not getting into a fight with this loser.

Through the corner of my eye I see him waddle over here in his baggy pants. I may be a gang member, but at least I have the decency to wear a freaking belt.

"Dear lord." I muttered under my breath as he approached me.

"Come on, are you deaf or some-" before this disgrace of a guy could even finish, I grab him by the front of his shirt and slam him against the cold brick wall, glaring at his fear struck face.

"Leave me alone. Or get your skin peeled off. Your choice." I said with clenched teeth, my voice low and dangerous.

"M-mhm." He managed to nod a reply before I let go and dropped him to the sidewalk with a thud.

I can feel the filthy swine staring down my back as I walk off in anger. This is definitely not the time.

You probably think I'm a heartless jerk, born without compassion and kindness.

Well, you're right.

I was born into a gang, they have raised me my whole life- which explains the rough exterior about me.

Well, I'm not that bad. Maybe just a little... Straight forward? Yet at the same time, I keep to myself.

I like to think I get that from my mum, although I've never met her..

With a frown, I shake the troubling thoughts that have haunted me since I was a child out of my head. Not today, Zayn. Worry about this later.

It feels like a load off my back as I enter the gas station store, the warm air surrounds me and I'm no longer freezing from the outside cold.

I shuffle around the small grubby store looking for what I need, my eyes light up when I spot the pack of cigarettes before me. Hastily, I grab them off the rack and approach the counter to pay.

No one's here, just my luck.

I tap my fingers on the coffee stained counter impatiently, waiting for someone to make their appearance. But nobody does.

"Is anyone even here?" I call out, obviously irritated with this place.

"Oh! We have a customer! I'm so sorry!" A light hyper voice pops out of a room behind the counter.

I look up to see a girl crazily running around the place in stress, fixing up a few things and trying to collect herself without exploding.

Her presence is so exhaspersting already.

"I'm over here." I spoke up, slightly rolling my eyes.

She turned to me with widened eyes, and jumped a little at my appearance.

My constant glare may look a bit scary.

Her eyes were hooked on me, but I was not at all amused.

I cleared my throat and looked off a bit, making her jump again and rush over to me.

"So sorry about that, I was on lunch break and no one ever comes here so I thought I could just sit around even though I wonder why I get fired from every job and-"