Ink pulled out a cigarette from his small box, lighting it up with his lighter. He flopped onto his bed in his apartment, looking out the window to see the busy roads and building lights. "Ugh..." He turned to the other side, taking out his cigarette, and groaned. Ink blew out a puff of smoke, inhaling in his cigarette once more. He had always been like that since he lost his parents at the age of 15. Some stranger took him in after he was seen pickpocketing as a living. He offered a job to him.
Now that he's 19, he knew how to use guns and knives. He learned from the stranger that took him. Living in this apartment for about 5 years now, but still not enough to pay his debt since he couldn't find a proper job yet. Sitting up from his bed, he extinguish the flame on the cigarette, throwing the remaining bud onto the glass cup that he stole from the dollar store.
Walking to his wardrobe, he picked out a jacket and took his cap. Going outside into the busy city, he walked to the nearest club to take a drink. The bell that was attached to the door rang as Ink walked into the club. Loud music was instantly banging into his mind. He let out a sigh as he sat on one of the seats at the counter. "One shot please." He told the bartender, the man nodded and poured the drink for him. Ink took the shot fast and looked at the stage, the club was also linked to another strip club that was filled with men and half-naked women serving and dancing around seducing men.
Ink felt disgusted since he isn't interested in women, instead, he liked men more. He was questioning his sexuality still, he couldn't figure it out. But he noticed that he was drawn to men more so he considered himself to be gay. He ordered yet another two shots to at least distract himself from the strip club. As he took his last shot, he peeked around to see a man with a fancy white coat filled with gold laces. He was focused on him, his face, he looked familiar but he was not conscious enough to focus on him. Ink gave up trying to figure out who he was, he stood up, walking while still being a lil bit tipsy.
He finally reached the front door but unfortunately, someone was following him. He began to walk faster as his vision became blurry. "Wait!" Someone behind him shouted out. Ink turned back to see the man that he saw wearing fancy clothing. He stopped immediately as the man walked towards him. "You left your wallet in the club." The man handed Ink's wallet to him. Ink could finally look at the man's face, he was also a skeleton, like him, just with black bones. He has tattoos from his collar bone to his neck. "Thanks." Ink took his wallet and walked off again.
But before he could take another step, the man held his wrist. "Hey, you look like you can't walk properly. Tell me your place and I can help you get back safely." He said. "No thanks, I can walk on my own." Ink tried to retrieve his wrist back but the grip was too strong, or maybe he was really tipsy? Either way, he didn't want anyone to know his location. Maybe the man is a spy? or is with the police forces? Ink thought as he tried again to retrieve his wrist.
"I'll go home late today, just go home or take some shots with the money I left you guys with, take a break today." The man took out his phone to call someone, he then hang up and pulled Ink into his grasp. Ink yelped but soon stopped to realize how close they were. "Just tell me where you live, I don't care if you suspect me, just tell me." The man demanded calmly. Ink thought for a second before speaking again. "Go straight down the right. I live in an apartment on the fifth floor." Ink said.
The man nodded and walked with Ink, holding hands to make sure Ink was at least, walking straight. Ink stared at his hand that was held by the man the whole time, he blushed faintly. They arrived at the apartment that Ink was talking about, the man even lead him to his room.