1 laza/Paradigm - Chapter 3: The Return of Old Habits

TW: There's a scene involving a suicide of sorts in this chapter. Just thought I'd point that out at the start.

Fixed some stuff from last time because I didn't like a few things.

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I woke up in the morning to the rare sight of sunlight through the blinds of my bedroom window. Nearing winter, the usual weather in Cielos around this time is so cloudy, people tend to forget that sunny days do indeed exist. The constant gloomy weather is one of the only things I like about Cielos since it makes going outside easier for my eyes, though sunny mornings like today are somewhat of a nice change of pace, I guess.

The apartment was empty when I woke up, Sayuri likely having gone to work already. With the place likely free to myself for the entire day, I had planned to just laze around and watch T.V as usual, but while in the middle of brushing my teeth, they decided to call.

Being the only person who knows my current phone number, I already knew who it was when I heard the generic ringtone blaring from my bedroom. With a toothbrush still in my mouth, I quickly went in and lifted up the mattress from the bed frame, taking out the pink flip phone from under it.

"I need more," is the first thing he says to me when I answer the call, wasting no time asking me for the only thing he cares about.

"Mornin' to you too, Pook," I reply casually, walking back into the bathroom.

"That last batch you gave ain't last for shit. Some Wallet in Monse bought up all our reserves for a party and now we're left with fuck all. It might be asking for too much, but 'ya mind giving me some more of your blood?"

Sighing at how shameless he's being right now, I spit out the toothpaste in my mouth and turn on the sink. "I just gave you some yesterday, and you're asking for more?"

"I know, I know, but you'll be doing me a favor, and you of all people should know how much a favor in return from me is worth, right?"

"Tempting me with favors while I'm desperate... You've really reached a new low, Pook."

"Look, are you gonna do it or not?"

"I don't really have a choice, do I?" (Besides, I have more to lose if I refuse than accept.) "Just know, if I get ran up on by some Pawns on the way there and they find out I'm still alive, it'll be your fault."

"You're overreacting, kid. Them boys don't care about you," he says chuckling, "If they really wanted you dead, they would've gotten you hit a while ago."

"Yeah... you're right." If only he knew.

"Oh, right. While I got you on the phone, Papa Lockett's told me that the daughter is coming back for the winter. Thought you should know in case you were ready to tell her you're still alive and everything."

"She's better off not knowing," I respond without a second thought. Wiping off my face with a towel, I open the mirror cabinet and take out the box of eye contacts.

"If you say so, kid... How's the other girl, by the way?"

Putting on the second eye contact, I blink a few times before looking into the mirror, meeting a blue gaze that isn't mine. "Sayuri? She's good. Still has trouble with some stuff here and there, but she's pulling through."

"That's nice. Well, kid, I won't waste your time any longer. I'm at the same building as always, so don't take too long."

"Alright." And with nothing else for either of us to say, he ends the call, leaving me to start getting ready to go out.

My "disguise" is already practically done, so the only thing left for me to do is to get changed. I try to cover as much skin as possible whenever I go out, so with the sun in full display today, I'm already dreading the walk there. Going through the garbage bag filled with my clothes by the corner of my room, I take out a random white hoodie and some sweats, quickly putting them on before shoving the phone back under the mattress.

Walking into the living room, I grab my keys and mp3 player from the couch where I always leave them, sliding the earbuds connected to them up the inside of my hoodie before putting the device in my pocket. With everything I need, I head to the door and slide on my only pair of shoes, locking the door from the inside before I leave.

Coincidentally, the door next to ours also opens, an elderly black woman popping out holding shopping bags and a handbag around her shoulder. Emitting a stench so foul that I almost vomit on the spot, she notices me and waves, a happy smile on her face.

For as long as I can remember, every person I've come across had this rotten smell lingering around them. I've gotten used to it now since I've had to bear with it my entire life, but for certain people like Marolyn, sometimes the stench is too strong for me to simply grit my teeth and pretend it's not there. At first, I wasn't sure what the smell itself was, but as my life went on to play out the way it did, I eventually ended up finding out what it was supposed to be.

Every single person in this city reeks of death.

...Well, everybody excluding Sayuri, that is.

You see, for some inexplicable reason, Sayuri is the only exception to this constant, and having spent the past year mostly holing myself inside the apartment with her, the tolerance I've built over the years to the smell has regressed a bit.

Closing the metal front door, I start breathing through my mouth, hoping the worst doesn't occur.

"M-morning, Marolyn," I somehow mutter out, the urge to let out the breakfast I haven't had close to reaching its breaking point. "Heading to the market?"

"Mhmm, I only need a few things for tonight's dinner. Might get some more meat while I'm at it." Closing the door to her apartment and locking it, I walk down the stairs with her, slowing down to match her pace.

"If it's the Super Mart by Morrison park, I'll walk you there."

"Really? You don't have to if you want to."

"Nah, it's okay," I reassure her, "It's still not safe for people to be walking around alone, 'specially in Verdif of all places. Besides, I was already heading in that direction."

"Well, in that case... tell me, what's been going on with you and Sayuri?" she asks rather cheekily, playfully punching my arm as we leave the apartment complex and stroll down the block.

With it being the weekend, the sidewalks are less crowded than they usually are, though the roads are about as active as ever, creating a discord of car horns, running engines, and rumbling bass from car stereos. The particular grocery store that Marolyn was heading to isn't that far from the complex, so within a couple of minutes, we're already at the street across from it, waiting for the traffic light to turn green. Crossing the street once it does, it is when we reach the entrance to the shopping plaza that we part ways.

"Be safe on your way back Marolyn," I tell her as I start to put in my earbuds into my ear.

"Alright, sugar. Take care!"

I know the path to Pook's office building like the back of my hand. Being one of the only law firms in Cielos to establish their base of operations so far out from the inner city, it sticks out like a sore thumb in the forest of apartments and buildings for lease. Worse for me, however, Verdif area — the part of town that his office is located in — is Pawn territory, or better put, territory I shouldn't be treading over at the moment. And to think, a couple of years ago, I used to casually walk around this place like it was home.

Oh, how things have changed...

The scenery of Verdif isn't any different from the other rougher parts of Cielos, the roads and pavement still littered with garbage with all the recyclable bits already having been scavenged by the homeless lingering around. With every street that I pass by, it's like I'm seeing the same copied and pasted block over and over again, a seemingly endless wall of faded bricks and cement. Had it not been for the street signs, I could've sworn that I was walking through a loop of some sort.

There is one thing that differentiates Verdif from the other areas in Cielos, however. Being Pawn territory, it would only make sense for members of the Pawns to be roaming around the place. Now, that alone isn't anything bizarre as the same can be said for any area dominated by them. What makes Verdif different from neighborhoods like, let's say Herton for example, is that for some odd reason, the Pawns in Verdif really like standing around for no apparent reason.

In front of nearly every apartment that I've passed, at least a handful of them are posted up in front of the steps, doing absolutely nothing but standing there and looking tough. It'd be one thing if they were harmless but similar to a pride of lions, they wait in front of their territory for their prey to come, or in this case, for any hopeless sap roaming around so they can mug them.

Unfortunately, it just so happens that I and these said hopeless saps have quite a few similarities, and because of this, even in broad daylight, there's a risk for me to walk around here. It makes sense if you think about it from their perspective. When else will a pasty white and unnaturally slender man walk through the neighborhood by themselves? From a simple description of myself, I'm practically easy pickings for them.

I can feel their piercing gazes as I walk down the sidewalk, some from right beside me to my left and others from across the street. Avoiding most of these gazes by simply keeping my head down, I keep my pace as music blares through the earbuds in my ear. For a moment, I thought I was going to be able to make it through here without trouble, but from the corner of my eye, I notice them in the back mirror of the car in front of me.

"Hey, gringo!" he calls out, his voice barely audible in the barrage of synths in my ear.

Ignoring him completely, I continue walking as if nobody had called out, but within a few seconds, there's a hand on my shoulder. Sucking my teeth, I reluctantly take out my left earbud and turn to him.

"What?"

Looking behind him, he puts his arm around me and digs into his pocket, pushing me along as we walk to his pace. "I just wanted to talk, if that's okay," he says menacingly as he pulls out a switchblade, flicking it open and pressing it against my side.

Compliance being my only option in this situation, he leads me into a nearby alleyway, pinning me against the wall once we're in far enough. With his blade now pointed against my neck, I have a clear look at his face, the first thing I notice being the distinct tattoo on his cheek.

He's branded with the mark of a Black Pawn, the familiar logo of a pawn piece with an eye replacing the bulb on top telling me everything I need to know about him. The more important members of the Pawns get their mark where they can't be seen, so with his being smack dab on his face... well, that'd make him one of the more disposable ones.

Other than that, there isn't anything about him that's distinguishable. He looks like your average Hispanic male, his buzzcut hair black and his eyes brown. He's smaller than me by an inch or two, but a height difference doesn't matter when he's strong enough to have me up a wall with ease.

"Empty your pockets!" he shouts at me once he's made sure nobody's around, pressing the blade harder against my neck.

"Yeah, yeah," I murmur back frustratingly, taking out what little I have in them. With only an mp3 player and keys to show, the instant disappointment in his face is almost hysterical for a second, but just as quick as it flushed his face, that same disappointment was quickly replaced by frustration.

"That's it?! That's all you have? You don't even carry a wallet?"

I chuckle slightly, rolling my eyes at his stupidity. "Yeah, 'cause I'ma carry a wallet full of money walking through your shady ass neighborhood."

Letting out an exasperated sigh, he scratches the back of his head and sucks his teeth, taking the blade off my neck but still keeping me against the wall. Right when I think he's going to let me off free, he leans his face closer to mine, squinting his eyes as he observes me up and down.

"Jesus, you're pale as fuck..." he mutters to himself, "If you had the eyes, I would've thought you were Bleached Death in the flesh."

"Wouldn't that be crazy?"

"Yeah, it would," he replies with a mischievous smile forming on his face. "They say his body was never found, so there's always a chance that he's still roaming around."

"Look man, can you just let me go? Unlike you, I have shit to do." Does he know...?

Letting go of my shirt, he backs up with his hands up, his blade still in hand. "My bad, my bad. I'm just trying to make sure you don't go around snitching on me when I do. We don't want any old rumors to resurface again, do we?"

Old rumors? Yeah, he definitely knows.

I can't say I wasn't expecting this once he started eyeing me down, but there was a small sliver of hope in me that he wouldn't recognize me. Now knowing that he's aware, there are only two ways that I can see this ending.

On one side, I can take the opportunity to leave and go on with my day, praying that he won't tell anybody about me. I'd be tempted to take this route if I could take his word and not worry about being double-crossed, but I'd be one naïve fool to trust a stranger so easily. The second I'm out of his sight, he's free to do anything he wants, an uncontrollable variable that I can't take the risk on.

I don't want to feel that pain again.

Before I realize it, that familiar warmth permeates throughout my skin, soothing my entire body in a matter of seconds. Whatever anxiousness I had has fled my body, my nerves calmer than they've never been before. Then, as it all unfolds, words that aren't mine begin to leave my mouth.

"That's real tough coming from someone whose daddy doesn't mind them disappearing."

"W-what did you just say?" he stammers out confused, taken aback by my sudden change of tone. I don't even bother responding, out of nowhere bursting out in a fit of laughter. Expectedly, being laughed at enrages him, and I find myself pinned against the wall again with a knife against my neck. "What's so funny, huh? Think this is all a joke?"

"Oh, it's nothing," I manage to get out after a breather. "I just find it funny that you of all people are threatening me. I mean, you're bottom of the barrel, aren't you?"

"The fuck is that supposed to mean?" he shouts angrily at me, his spit splatting on my face.

With how hard he's pressing his blade against my neck now, I'm surprised it hasn't pierced through yet. He might actually kill me if this goes on any longer. Please, just let me shut up for once. Let me control it.

"Say... are you happy?"

With that question alone, his anger immediately dissipates, a blank gaze replacing what were eyes of fury. I stare deeply into his blank eyes, fully aware of what's going to happen next but not able to do anything about it.

"Am I... happy?" he asks back, a rather dopey look on his face now.

"It's not that hard of a question to answer honestly. (Stop talking...) Just look at what you're doing, mugging somebody out in broad daylight. It's barely morning, for Christ's sake! (Please, stop talking!) You probably don't even get to keep most of the money you steal considering it's the Pawns you're working for of all people. Just what are you doing with your life?"

Throughout the entire time that I'm talking, bits and pieces of his life flood into my brain, memories that I'm sure even he doesn't remember appearing within mine. In that short span of time, I'm given access to the little things that make him insecure and am shown the moments in his past that he still regrets. At that moment, I learn so much about him as a person that it pains me to know what's going to happen next.

"Honestly..." I whisper softly, the corners of my lip curling up, "At this point, why are you even alive?"

As if a switch was flicked inside of his head, he suddenly backs up away from me with wide eyes, frantically looking around. He falls onto his butt in a panic, scurrying backward until his back hits the dirty alleyway's wall. From my perspective, all I can see is a man in sheer terror, too scared to even stand up, but in his eyes, his entire world's turned to darkness, everywhere that he turns void of anything.

I've seen what he's seeing once when I was younger by accident, and with every fiber of my being agreeing with me when I say this, I'd do just about anything to ensure that I never enter that place again.

I can hear the voices in his head, all of them a different version of my voice, and all of them telling him to do the same thing— to kill himself.

'What are you waiting for?' asks the me from his left.

'You ruined your life the second you involved yourself with the Pawns,' says the me on his right.

'And for what?' asks the me directly in front of him, 'For your mama's hospital bills? We both know how that ended.'

This time from behind him, it's almost as if it were me myself creeping up towards his ear when I say it, the last words he'll ever hear in his life entering his thoughts coldly.

'Face it. You have no reason to live anymore, so just end it.'

"I'm sorry Mama!" he finally cries out, only, no one but me can hear him. With tears flowing down his cheeks, he sobs out of a painful amalgamation of fears, sorrow, and regret. "I just wanted you to get better!"

'It's too late for that now, Daniel. There's only one way for her to hear you, and you know what you have to do to get there.'

His bloodshot eyes meet my gaze, and hesitantly, he flicks open the knife he previously had against my neck. He gets on his knees, propped up almost right in front of me. In his shaky hands, he raises it up in front of him, the blade pointing towards his body.

'Do it!' the me on his left shouts out.

"I'm so sorry, Mama..."

'Just do it already!' the me on his right yells at him. 'Go ahead and meet your mom!'

"Why did things end up like this..." he mutters to himself regretfully.

Had he not met me today, there might've been a chance that he could've gotten out of his current situation. Many leave the Pawns after a while, nobody chasing after them since it isn't worth the effort. He could've still lived a fulfilling life, one where he wouldn't be burdened with his regrets.

It pains me to know that I'm the reason he doesn't have the chance to do anymore.

'Kill yourself,' says the me in front of him icily, those two words being the trigger he needed to do the deed.

With no hesitation, he plunges his knife straight into his gut, groaning painfully as he falls over on his side. Practically ripping the blade out of his skin, the blood immediately starts leaking out of his stomach, coating the lower half of his shirt with red. He lets the blade drop onto the floor and falls back, his body against the wall again. Meeting my gaze for one last time, I stare back apathetically as the life in his eyes slowly fades away, the stench of death that was lingering on his body lingering no more. My ears are suddenly able to hear the buzzing of city life around me, and my body is finally able to move the way I want it to again. As I look down at the ground, the realization of what I had just done is further embedded into my conscience, an instant pang of guilt pulsing inside my chest.

I've just killed someone again.

"Fuck..."