Angelo
Last night
"Angeloooo.. why did she do that to me?" he cried hoping his stoic best friend would be able to take away his pain. Angelo, on the other hand, was hopelessly waiting for his best friend to fall asleep. He had mixed some sleeping pills in his juice but they were taking so long to take effect.
He started questioning himself, whether or not he had put the right pills there. It was 2 am and Carlos was still whining. He needed something to distract him. Something to stop him from putting a sock in his friend's mouth.
He needed to do that, otherwise, he would never get to hear the end of these whines.
Angelo was never violent towards women but tonight, he wanted to punch the woman who put him through this condition. He wanted to make her sit and listen to Carl's whines, but the lady was not there with them.
He would make sure to look for her if he had the time. eventually, the sleeping pills took effect and Angelo couldn't have been happier. He was excited if that was even possible. Finally, he could get to read his favorite comic books.
***
Satan cared for his best friend, but no one would ever know because he kept his circle closely knit. No one would enter just like that. He may have been an asshole to everyone else, but just like every normal person – sorry, Satan, he had a soft spot too.
And right now, his soft spot, who he had spent the whole night listening to, was at the door, wearing the same face as he was the whole night.
"are you going to spend the whole week crying over a girl?" Satan asked, clearly bemused by the antics of his best friend. he had been suffered enough to last him years and he knew carl wasn't going to just stop because he nicely asked. he just had to prepare himself for the longest day ever.
"you're saying that because you don't understand. I was nice to her, I was the best part of me with her" at that Satan snorted. He had heard that statement more than a hundred times now. He always knew how his broken-hearted friend would start, and end his whines.
"just like you were to all the other girls you met bro. Quit whining. I can't believe you kept me awake all night just because you wanted a girl who played you." He was consoling his best friend in the only way he could, and as usual, the latter was enjoying every bit of it.
"does it mean I will get a massage from the great Morgan?" He curiously asked, knowing so well how to trap the only man the world was scared of.
He was pouting at the man no one had ever seen smile.
He was here talking to the man who had just blown someone's brains off, all the while eating his bacon. Yes, the poor thing carried that everywhere. It should have been something he did out of habit or probably he loved what he did, but clearly, he had overgrown his childish habits.
"Yeah, yeah, whatever. If I give you a massage, will you let me work?" Morgan asked knowing so well that he had already won the discussion. He would pay back for all the time this wimp wanted, but it would be on his tab.
They knew there was always something coming up each time Morgan was to give a massage, so this time, the best friend decided to unplug the telephone line, turn off the wifi, and confiscated Morgan's phone.
After doing all that, he was now satisfied that nothing would interrupt them. At least now he would continue whining in peace.
"of course yes. When had the great Carl disappointed you?" Carl said with a hint of mischief in his eyes.
Everyone who knew about the relationship between Carl and Morgan could easily confuse them as lovers. The only distinction of their sexuality was the fact that Morgan was not a womanizer, and he was a dangerous guy, while Carl, he followed every skirt that was willing to come off for him.
To save his ears from hurting, Morgan offered to massage Carl, but his condition this time was to muffle his mouth. He didn't want to hear about the girl who sounded like a ghost to him. He had already heard enough.
At least that was a fair deal.
A massage in exchange for silence, and no more whies. That was Carl, and Morgan, the brothers of a lifetime.
**
Just like the good thief, he never killed, not unless he had to, which was almost always, but everyone knew never to go against Satan reincarnate.
He was orphaned at a young age and had to learn to survive the streets on his own. He took everything he wanted from the people he targeted, and by everything, I mean everything.
When he robbed someone, he robbed him or her of everything. Down to the last clothing garment. But everyone knew he only robbed the people he hated. He was not a thief in essence, but he was an underworld champion fighter, the best of the worst people in the fights there.
He fought to survive, something that was not new to him considering he had been fighting to survive every day since his parents died. Whenever he got into the fighting ring, no one would bet against him because he was the undefeated champion.
Sometimes he fought to the dead, but sometimes he fought to humiliate his opponents. His fighting skills were incredible, and amazing, something that imprinted his name in his world.
He fought against gang leaders and won.
He fought against champions and won.
The only thing he would keep fighting but would probably never win was the fight against life, but he had sworn to himself that until his last breath, he would fight.
Everyone knew about him, and his antics in his world, just like people knew about the good thief.
**
Their worlds had never collided, but they would soon, especially since they were both so close to turning eighteen.