In the heart of a world that teemed with dreams and aspirations, there existed a beacon of hope and endless possibility, a marvelous city that stood as a testament to the power of hard work and determination.
Welcome to Neapolis, the City of Promise, where talent found fertile ground to flourish, dreams took flight, and legends were born.
In this great city, also known as the world's entertainment capital, the whispers of success reached even the farthest corners, and constantly drew the most talented, gifted, and hardworking from all walks of life like moths to a flame.
Neapolis stood at the pinnacle due to its unwavering commitment to fairness and equality. With the power of unity, the state of one's skin, heritage, age, sex or gender, sexual preference, and disability held no sway over the opportunities that lay ahead.
Here, the promise of success was not limited to the privileged few. Here, the doors to prosperity swung open wide for all who dared to chase their dreams. Here, hard work and dedication were the only needed currency that unlocked the gate to a brighter future.
With the untapped power of raw human potential, with the great strength of the human spirit, with passion, determination, and a little touch of fate, in the City of Promise, anything was possible.
At least, that was what Lenny was told.
And what a fool he was to believe it, for only he saw this city for its truth: A filth... littered by the walking dead.
Lenny plopped down on his frameless bed, sitting with his shoulders drooped and staring blankly at the laminate flooring of the apartment.
He pondered, 'I wonder… who will show up first? Mike? Oldman John? Or maybe Ray? No, Ray isn't that kind of guy. Emily would probably come on his behalf. Or at least, that's what she'll claim…'
Sluggishly, he took off the expensive suit jacket and dropped it beside him with a heavy thud.
"Sigh…" Exhaling deeply, he felt the weight on his shoulders lessen only by a fraction.
Knock~ Knock~
A soft rapping echoed from the apartment door, prompting Lenny to let out a hollow chuckle.
'How predictable.'
Pushing himself up, he stretched briefly before answering the door.
Soon, he twisted the door handle and the door opened to reveal a pregnant woman in her late 20s of East-Asian descent.
She stood at an average height and wearing a loose-fitting pastel-colored cotton dress, her well-combed dark hair cascaded down past her shoulders.
It was Emily, Ray's wife.
"Lenny, hey. I saw when you arrived. How did the interview go?"
Emily's tone was soft and gentle, however, there was a slight hint of urgency in her voice. It was as though she just wanted to be done with the greetings as fast as possible.
'...Of course, she'd be the first,' Lenny thought. He scrutinized her carefully.
Despite the friendly smile on her face, her black eyes bore into him with an inscrutable air of loathing.
"To be honest, I don't know," Lenny replied. "They just said they'll get back to me."
Emily offered a slight nod. "Try not to dwell on it too much, it'll work out. By the way, I'm sorry but Ray asked me to help him get back the oxfords he lent you…"
'…Once again, how damn predictable.'
Lenny was sure Emily was just taking matters into her own hands as Ray had allowed him to use the shoes for as long as he needed.
He knew how much Emily didn't already like him due to something about him being a negative influence on her husband, Ray.
Not that Lenny was an ex-convict or anything, it was just that he was a failure and she wouldn't want those expensive oxfords to have his feet smell.
Lenny was aware of how the entire neighborhood saw him. He knew that to them, he was just a loser with no academic degree, constantly hopping from one side job to another and hardly able to put food on his table. They all knew he was paying an exorbitant loan amount too, rumored to be gotten from his gambling addiction.
This was general knowledge tied to his very name. And even worse, it wasn't outright false.
Not too long ago, he had even approached Ray to beg for some cash because he was completely and utterly broke.
What kind of pregnant wife would want someone like him around her husband, who was meant to provide for and protect her and their unborn child?
Lenny maintained a calm smile and nodded.
Understanding things from her perspective, he duly returned the $1,400 oxfords, all shiny and clean to Emily without any complaint.
"Thank you. And please, thank Ray for me once again." He said with genuine gratitude in his voice.
She nodded, still wearing that fake smile. "You're welcome."
After Emily left, two more neighbors came by, inquiring about his interview and reclaiming what they had lent him. First, it was Mike, the owner of the $6,000 Ralph Lauren suit, and then old man John, who owned the $11,000 Rolex.
From the motorcade entourage to the expensive attire and luxurious possessions, not a single thing belonged to Lenny.
While he had borrowed from his neighbors, he rented the cars and hired the bodyguards from Desmond, all for an act to make his mother, Sarah, believe he was successful.
It was an audacious and utterly insane stunt.
Lenny found himself standing alone, donning a slightly stained white vest and blue briefs and gazing at the closed apartment door.
With a heavy sigh, he made his way to the bathroom.
Twisting the tap knob, he let the water rush out before cupping some in his hands and washing his face thoroughly with soap.
Once done, he reached for a blue towel hanging nearby and used it to gently dry his face and the front part of his hair that had gotten soaked.
Draping the towel over his shoulders, Lenny turned to face his reflection in the bathroom mirror.
Staring back at him was the image of an average-looking man, with features that could easily be mistaken for someone in their late 20s, when in reality he was just 24 years old.
The contours of his collarbones and ribs were vividly outlined under his pale white skin. Scrutinizing his slim, long face, he couldn't help but notice the slight acne on his cheeks.
His tired brown eyes carried dark bags beneath them, along with a large bony nose, and a somewhat weak chin with a receding jawline. His dark brown hair, although still combed back, had a few unruly strands that stuck out at the front.
Lenny started applying white makeup paint to his face but the features were exaggerated.
He was getting ready to go to a birthday party to perform… as a clown.
This particular gig had been on his schedule for about a week, and as he contemplated whether or not to go through with it, he couldn't help but think about the impact of a last-minute cancellation.
"Although I don't really need the money anymore, it wouldn't be fair to ruin the kid's birthday. I have nothing else to do anyway," he mused to himself.
Soon, after donning his clown makeup and costume and readying his bag of tricks, he left his one-bedroom apartment and headed out.
Taking the subway, his destination was the high-class area, Monston, located at the top of Neapolis.
Upon reaching the designated address, Lenny found himself standing in front of an impressive house atop a hilly neighborhood.
The gateman granted him entry, and housemaids ushered him inside. The birthday party was taking place indoors, in a playroom filled with children ranging from around 4 to 12 years old.
With a cheerful bounce, Lenny entered the room, sporting a wide smile, and exclaimed in a comical voice, "He-He-Hey kids, it's Leany the Clumsy Clown!"
The children responded with enthusiastic cheers. In line with his clumsy clown persona, Lenny intentionally slipped and fell on his back, sparking laughter and amusement among the young audience.
Throughout the party, he entertained the children with silly jokes and unexpected clumsy falls. He even played a simple tune on the grand piano and sang a song dedicated to the birthday girl, whose father couldn't attend the celebration.
The kids proved to be a fantastic audience, laughing heartily and actively participating in the fun.
After three enjoyable hours, the birthday party came to a close. Although forcing a cheerful demeanor, Lenny genuinely relished his time with the children. Soon, he received his payment and bid farewell.
Then, he boarded a bus bound for Orlande, the working-class borough located just above Queensgate, the poor-class borough.
Lenny, still adorned in clown makeup, rested his head against the bus window, taking in the unique sights of Monston. This area was often likened to Manhattan of New York City, but a hundred times better.
As he gazed out to the road ahead, he observed a Rolls-Royce pulling up at a high-end diner.
A stunning lady in an extravagant dress emerged from the back seat, warmly welcomed by a strikingly handsome man in a designer suit. The flashing lights of numerous cameras beside the red carpet captured the glamorous scene.
With a sigh, Lenny couldn't help but contrast this spectacle of opulence with his own life. The distant dream, the modern-day paradise, reflected on the bus window and etched on his sad clown face as they sped past.
'Welcome to Neapolis, the City of Promise,' he thought with a touch of bitterness, '...where the talentless, unlucky, and ordinary wither and die.'