Neville stumbled into his small apartment, the late-night chill seeping through his coat. It was 11:08 PM. After paying an exorbitant fare for the late-night cab ride, he tossed his keys onto the counter and kicked off his shoes.
The apartment was as he left it, was clean and tidy, a scene very comforting to the young man, so much so he smiled a little. He stripped off his clothes, tossing them into the laundry basket.
The cold shower was a welcome relief, but the icy water stung his face, a reminder of the drama of rich people he had been through.
After a quick, cold shower, he moved to the kitchen. A simple meal of eggs and rice was all he could muster. As he ate, he scrolled through his phone, searching for job opportunities.
His lack of a degree and the non-compete clause significantly limited his options.
Disappointment gnawed at him as he realized that his quiet and reserved nature, coupled with his lack of connections, further limited his already narrow options. The few job opportunities available to him were far from ideal.
He could consider a driving job at a school, but the pay was significantly lower than his previous position, and the social demands of the role were incompatible with his introverted personality. Alternatively, he could buy a car and work as a private driver, but this would plunge him deeper into debt.
Neville stood at the sink, the occasional clinking of dishes echoing in the quiet apartment as water from the tap ran. His mind, however, was far from the mundane task at hand.
He was lost in thought, each one leading to a dead end. His recent career setback had left him adrift, uncertain of his next move.
He considered the options, each one less appealing than the last. A return to driving seemed mundane, while other paths required skills and qualifications he didn't possess.
The weight of this decision pressed down on him.
With a sigh, he decided to postpone the decision. "I'll figure it out tomorrow," he muttered to himself. He quickly finished the dishes, brushed and rinsed his face, and slipped into bed. As he drifted off to sleep, he hoped that the night would bring clarity and inspiration.
******************
The next morning, his alarm blared at 4:00 AM, piercing the silence of his small apartment. He groggily opened one eye, glanced at the glowing digits on his clock, and promptly shut it again. With nothing pressing to do and nowhere to be, he allowed himself the luxury of drifting back into the warmth of his bed.
Hours later, he awoke to the soft light of the morning sun desperately trying to breakthrough his dark curtains only to fail. The clock read 8:53 AM. He stretched lazily, yawning as he shuffled towards the bathroom. The cold tiles under his feet sent a shiver up his spine, jolting him into full wakefulness. He squeezed a generous amount of toothpaste onto his toothbrush and began his morning ritual, the habitual scrubbing of his teeth a comforting routine.
Suddenly, a series of loud bangs echoed through his apartment, startling him. He paused, toothbrush in mid-air, listening intently. The knocks continued, growing more insistent. He frowned, puzzled. He had no close friends who would visit unannounced, and he was always punctual with his rent payments. Who could it be?
The banging persisted, each knock louder than the last. With a sigh, he set his toothbrush down, rinsing his mouth and made his way to the door, genuinely curious about the change of events.
A woman in a black tracksuit, her jacket open to reveal a black crop top that laid bare her abs, stood with a cap perched on her head, a blonde ponytail flowing through the gap at the back. She looked up, and Neville caught a glimpse of her face. Even her eyelashes were blonde, framing eyes like maroon beads. Her thin, black eyebrows contrasted sharply with her fair complexion. The scent of expensive perfume wafted from her, but it was a brand that didn't sit well with Neville's nose.
Without any greeting, she thrust a photograph into Neville's face. "Do you know this woman?" she demanded coldly and authoritatively. Neville glanced at the picture and recognized Miss Blaire, his client from the previous day.
Internally, he groaned, "What sort of drama does this keep pulling me into?" Despite his annoyance, he kept his expression neutral and curtly replied, "No," before turning to re-enter his apartment.
Just as he was about to step inside, the woman grabbed his shoulder. The force of the slap turned grip on his shoulder, jerked him back to face her. "Yesterday at 0600 hours, you were observed with this woman. Tell us where she is right now and what type of relationship you have with her!" she demanded, squeezing his shoulder harder.
"Us?" Neville thought as he frowned, seeing only the woman before him. Regaining his composure, he said, "If you are not law enforcement, I have nothing to say to you." He gripped her hand and yanked it away from his shoulder. As he stepped into his apartment and went to close the door, he heard her mutter under her breath, "This bastard..."
As Neville was about to shut the door, he saw the silhouette of the woman backing away. He felt a brief sense of relief, thinking she had given up. But he was wrong. Suddenly, a great force struck the door, slamming it into his face and body. The unexpected impact sent him tumbling backwards, landing hard on his ass. The woman stormed into his home, shoes and all, something Neville detested.
"Do you think this is a game?" she demanded, stepping inside and tossing her cap aside. "You don't even know what you've gotten yourself into. When I ask something, you better answer."
Neville, still on the floor, tried to get up. "Lady..." he began, but she cut him off with a swift kick aimed at his face. He managed to block it with his hand, though the impact stung. He grabbed her foot, holding it firmly.
"Even if I know something, I'm bound by contracts. So will you stop?" Neville asked, standing up while still holding her foot. The woman clicked her tongue in frustration and twisted her body, attempting to kick him with her other foot. Neville quickly released her foot, and as she landed, he swept her legs out from under her, making her tumble to the ground.
In an instant, he was on top of her, restraining her arms with one knee pressed into her back. "Enough of this," he said, his voice low but firm.