Street Smarts & Stolen Hearts

by Rob Hunter

He adjusted the mask, which he had been wearing for a few years now, when he had realized that people were less likely to fuck with him if he gave off this tough persona of an uncaring psychopath. Didn’t help when it came to begging for money, but whatever. It was worth it just to be able to lie down and not have anyone able to tell whether his eyes were open or not.

  It was fucking cold out at the moment. He’d thought he would have gotten used to it by now, after almost a decade on the street, but he supposed that the cold wasn’t something you could really get used to. As long as it wasn’t cold enough to kill him, he didn’t particularly give a damn.

  Still, he wished that his sleeping bag was perhaps a bit thicker. He shuffled backwards, wishing that he could find some more satisfying shelter, but that had mostly been taken by the gangs that had stretched out through this city. He would have to move on soon, but that required more energy and motivation than he currently had.

  He could hear yelling. He tilted his head towards the source, feeling a degree of irritation at the commotion. The sound did not fade, but rather dispersed; a group of people then. He shifted into a sitting position, his hands going towards the hunting knife he kept by his side at all times, leaning his weight back on his hunches as he prepared to attack if it came to it.

  He just wanted to go to sleep, goddammit. Could these bloody gangs not take one night off in all their screaming and yelling and murdering?

  He scrambled to his feet as a lanky figure stumbled into his alleyway, registering the fact that the other man was unarmed. He kept his knife down as the figure yelled out, skidding to a halt and colliding into him in his haste. Ellis grunted, taking a few steps back and glancing down curiously at the winded figure on the floor who was staring up at him with wide, shocked eyes.

  A few seconds later and three more, much broader figures turned into the alleyway. He glared up at them, aware that he himself was an intimidating sight, dressed in leather and face hidden in a chilling skull mask, and partly obscured in the shadows. The three men stopped, hesitating as he pulled up his knife. These men were not unarmed.

  “Fuck off, Grayson, just let us take him and leave,” one of the men, heavily tattooed and with a strange, sloping face that looked like it was formed of clay, growled. Ellis narrowed his eyes, rolling his shoulders back as he stared down the three men.

  “No, you fuck off. This isn’t your turf. Come closer and I’ll fucking stab you,” he warned, stepping over the trembling body still huddled by his feet. The three men glanced at each other.

  “Come on, our fight isn’t with you,” one of the others complained. Ellis gritted his teeth, thoroughly annoyed.

  “I don’t give a fuck. Go away,” he hissed. The men shifted on their feet awkwardly. He tightened his grip on his knife. He would use it if it came to it. These people knew that. He had enough of a reputation dealing with gangs.

  “Fine, whatever. Fuck you, Grayson,” the leader of the three grumbled, turning around and sauntering out of the alleyway. Ellis watched them leave, warily. They probably wouldn’t have left if it wasn’t for the fact that their gang leader was still trying to recruit him. Small mercies.

  “Oh god, please don’t hurt me!” He’d almost forgotten about the figure on the floor. He tilted his head, before realizing that he was still wielding a knife and the skull mask wasn’t exactly welcoming.

  “Are you okay?” he asked calmly. The other man didn’t respond, just kept staring up at him. Ellis sighed, removing his mask and kneeling down beside the other. “Relax, I’m not going to hurt you.”

  “I…I think I’m okay,” the man said shakily. Ellis assessed him briefly, not taking long to conclude that the other man was also homeless, judging by the state of his clothes and the relative roughness of his skin. He didn’t seem to be injured.

  “Why were they after you?” he asked, glancing down the alleyway cautiously.

  “Uh, they wanted protection money, and we didn’t have it, and then we managed to piss them off so they decided they wanted to beat the shit out of us,” the man explained, shuffling into a sitting position and wrapping his arms around his body.

  “We?”

  “Uh, I was with my friend, Roy, I’m pretty sure he managed to get to safety…” The other man was still breathing a bit heavily, and Ellis was slightly concerned, but there wasn’t exactly anything he could do to help. “You’re Grayson? The Rover?” the man continued, looking up at him with wide eyes.

  “Yeah, but just call me Ellis,” he replied, smiling gently.

  “I’m Daveth,” the other man said shakily. “Are you really not going to hurt me?”

  “Nah.” Ellis waved him off, sitting back on his hunches. “Not unless you piss me off,” he added in a deadpan.

  “Oh…”

  “I’m joking.”

  “Oh.” Daveth looked relieved. “You’re homeless?” Ellis nodded, shuffling back until he was sitting on his sleeping bag. “I’ve never seen you at the shelter. I thought you were a myth.”

  “A myth?” He laughed. “I’m quite real, although I’m sure some of the stories you’ve heard aren’t,” he explained, smiling gently. There was something calming about Daveth’s presence; it had been a while since he’d properly talked to anyone. “I’m not welcomed at the shelter though.”

  “Why?” Daveth asked with a frown. He didn’t look so wary anymore, although he was still tightly clutching his arms around his chest.

  “Most people there are scared of me,” he said, pulling a face.

  “Have you tried not wearing the skull mask?” Daveth suggested. Ellis laughed, throwing his head back. Daveth smiled shyly.

  “It’s easier once you have a reputation to not have people fuck you over when sleeping rough,” Ellis explained with a shrug.

  “Do you belong to a gang?”

  “God, no,” he hissed, accidentally making Daveth jump. He forcefully made himself calm down. “I’m not interested in screwing with people. I only fight if I have to.”

  “You know, if you wanted to go to the shelter, I know the people who run it. I’m sure they’d be fine with you coming,” Daveth suggested. Ellis huffed.

  “It’s fine. I’m used to sleeping rough now.” He shrugged. Daveth looked at him, seeming unsatisfied. They dwindled into silence for a moment, broken by a few yells further in the city that made Daveth wince.

  “Do you mind if I stay here? Just till morning?” Daveth asked, a pleading tone entering his voice.

  “Stay as long as you need,” Ellis said, getting to his feet and stretching his hands above his head. “You can take my bed. I’m going to keep watch,” he promised, placing the mask back on his head. Daveth looked at him, bewildered, and a tad scared, before he scooted into the sleeping bag and carefully lowered into a sleeping position.

  “Thank you,” he murmured. Ellis grunted in acknowledgement. “Night, Ellis.”

  Ellis glanced back at him, surprised, but didn’t respond. He didn’t think Daveth would actually properly sleep, not with Ellis standing over him, but then, Ellis wasn’t going to sleep tonight. Not whilst the gangs were crawling around, looking to hurt people. He found he didn’t care too much that once again his sleep had been disturbed.

  ***

  Roy heaved, his hands coming to his knees as he struggled to regain his breath, glancing behind him cautiously. He stumbled forward a few steps, slinking towards the shadows as he strained his ears, trying to hear if anyone was approaching. There were still a few yells echoing further down the street, but there was more of a distance between them then there had been.

  He slowed to an unsteady walk, still glancing around warily as he made his way towards familiar roads. He was closer to the city center, and the bustle of general noise, even in the midst of a working week, drifted lazily towards him. His shoulders sagged, drifting towards the main road, and taking some comfort in the presence of people, even if they ignored him.

  It was too much to hope that he had lost them completely. But, hopefully ther
e was some safety to be had within a crowd.

  He brushed a hand through his windswept hair, trying to get it off his face where it was tickling his forehead in a persistently irritating way. He really needed a haircut, but it wasn’t exactly on his list of priorities when it came to figuring out how to spend whatever meager change he had managed to scavenge.

  He darted back down an alleyway, his chest no longer tight and burning in the way it had been, hoping to reach the shelter within the next few minutes. He wasn’t too far away. He’d hoped Daveth had gone back there as well.

  The shelter came into view and he rushed towards it, shoving his hands into his pocket as he slowed his pace as he reached the door. There was a group of people hovering around the entrance and they glanced up at him disinterestedly as he pushed past them, still breathing heavily. He glanced around anxiously, spotting Edwin and Adam outside the door of the shelter, laughing at something together.

  Adam noticed him first, perking up immediately before he stiffened, quirking an eyebrow at his state.

  “Roy?” Adam called, closing the distance between them. “Jesus, dude, what’s up?” he asked, reaching his hands out to help steady Roy as he breathed heavily.

  “That gang…they attacked us…” he explained breathlessly. Edwin came up next to him, worry flickering in his eyes.

  “Where’s Daveth?” Adam pressed, his face hardening. Roy shrugged helplessly, leaning further against his friend.

  “I don’t know, we got split up,” he confessed. Edwin brushed his hand over his shoulder, and he took some comfort in the warmth of the older man.

  “Come in, buddy. We’ll alert the police and see what we can do,” Edwin said calmly. Roy nodded hesitantly, still leaning against Adam as they stumbled further into the warmth of the shelter. At some point, Adam’s arm had wrapped around his shoulder and was now pulling him tight. “We should find Solomon,” Edwin suggested, walking ahead of them, towards where the beds were set up.

  The shelter was busy as usual, with most of the beds already occupied although the lights were still on. Distantly, he could hear the clink of cutlery and the low murmur of chatter and he felt his stomach rumble slightly as his hunger reawakened.

  “Solomon,” Edwin called, hovering by the entrance to the room. Solomon looked up from where he was engaged in conversation with someone sitting across one of the beds. Solomon blinked, seeming to detect the tone, and pardoned himself as he walked stiffly towards them.

  “What’s up?” he asked, eyes darting between the three of them.

  “Roy and Daveth got attacked,” Edwin replied bluntly. Solomon seemed to take a moment to register this, before he cursed quietly, and his eyes snapped onto Roy’s with a piercing intensity.

  “I’m fine,” he pointed out, pulling away from Adam and standing up straighter. Solomon narrowed his eyes, but nodded slowly, before turning back to Edwin.

  “Where’s Daveth?” he asked, tone indiscernible. Edwin scratched at the back of his neck.

  “We’re not sure,” Edwin admitted.

  “We got separated. I assumed he was going to come back here,” Roy elaborated. Solomon chewed on his lip, worry etched onto his face.

  “Call the police. I’m going to drive around and look for him,” Solomon decided, buttoning up the coat he was wearing.

  “I’ll go with you,” Roy offered. Solomon shook his head sharply.

  “No, you stay here. You’ve already been attacked once today,” Solomon ordered, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder and smiling softly.

  “We got separated on Silver Street. I’m not sure which way he went,” Roy responded, frowning.

  “Okay. I’ll look around. You guys stay safe,” Solomon said, ruffling a hand through his hair, and ignoring Roy’s venomous glare as he pushed his hand away.

  “Take the car. Try not to get in trouble,” Edwin said, offering the car keys to him. Solomon saluted him mockingly before leaving the shelter. Roy noticed the tension in his shoulders.

  “Let’s go get food and you can tell Edwin what happened,” Adam suggested, pushing him gently towards the canteen. Roy rubbed at his eyes, nodding wearily as he followed Adam’s advice.

  Roy did not sleep a lot that night. After a while, he stretched out and nudged Adam, stirring the other man out of the restless sleep he had been in. They didn’t say much, didn’t have much to talk about, but still they managed to keep up a choppy conversation. After a while, their soft words began to agitate those around them and they fell silent, staring up at the ceiling morosely.

  The silence did not help his nerves. He got up and slipped into Adam’s bed; the other man shifted unquestioningly to make space. They didn’t make a habit of sleeping together, but there were times where it could get bitterly cold out, and the shared body heat was welcome. Now, it was comfort they both sought.

  “Has Solomon got back yet?” he asked quietly.

  “Not as far as I know,” Adam replied, still staring up at the ceiling. Roy hummed, turning onto his side where it was slightly more comfortable.

  They didn’t say much after that, but there was something relaxing about feeling Adam’s breath warm the back of his neck. He didn’t fall into a deep sleep, but he managed to be lulled into a slight doze. And if he woke up with his back pressed up against Adam’s chest, and Adam’s arm wrapped around his waist, as they so often did, it didn’t mean anything.

  In the end, Solomon came back just in time to officially finish his shift. He came back alone, and the worry was etched into his expression and suddenly he looked several decades older than he was. Edwin wordlessly passed him a cup of coffee, rubbing soothing circles into his back as the four of them sat around a table in the near-empty canteen.

  Even when Kris and Mikaela came to take over and start the arduous process of ejecting the homeless from their beds, Solomon and Edwin lingered. The bags under their eyes were dark and menacing and Roy felt the sudden urge to force the two of them go home and try and get some sleep; it had, after all, been a long shift. But he knew it was futile to voice his concern.

  Edwin went to wordlessly help Kris as he prepared to start serving a late breakfast, for the homeless that were now bustling into the canteen, haggard and tired-looking as usual. Adam went to join him, eventually coming back with a few bowls of cereal—the cheap stuff, which started to fall apart into a soggy tasteless mess the minute it got the slightest bit wet—and eating hurriedly in a heavy silence.

  The whole thing felt ridiculous. Perhaps the worry was founded, but the extent to which his heart clenched and he felt slightly nauseous alongside the fuzzy dream-like quality that had descended over him, was probably far too melodramatic for someone he had just met. But he’d meant what he had said to Edwin; it was more intense on the streets. Either you formed relationships immediately, or not at all.

  And Daveth was someone worth knowing. He was funny, but not like those who fed off the laughs of others for their own ego; he was selfishly funny. He didn’t mind making fun of himself as long as other people were smiling. He just wanted people to be happy, it seemed. Heck, even though he could be boisterous, he was sweet, caring. Kind in the most innocent way possible, perhaps a bit too naïve for living on the streets, sure, but Roy hoped that Daveth kept that quality.

  He was surprised at the extent that Solomon and Edwin were affected. But then, Solomon was quick to love; he didn’t dance around his feelings, try to test them out, he just felt and cared. Edwin…well, Edwin was caring, in the fullest sense of the word. Even if what Adam had told him about Edwin’s jealousy at Daveth’s presence was true, the older man wouldn’t let that stop him worrying, not just for Daveth, but for all of them.

  And then Daveth appeared, quite suddenly, hovering quietly by the edge of the canteen with a faint smile on his face. Solomon reacted first, getting to his feet and not caring about barging people aside to get to Daveth. Roy fell into step beside Adam, and somehow Edwin managed to reach him at the same time from across the room.

&nbs
p; “Where the fuck have you been?” Solomon yelled, barreling into the Brit and grabbing him tightly in a hug that made the other man wince.

  “Um…” Daveth mumbled, glancing between them with a look of confusion.

  “Dude, a group of dickheads attack us and you disappeared. Did you think we weren’t worried?” Roy interjected. Adam shuffled restlessly next to him, shifting closer to Daveth as soon as Solomon made space.

  “I didn’t know if it’d be safe to get back here when they were still roaming round,” Daveth explained sheepishly.

  “Where even were you? Solomon looked everywhere,” Adam pointed out, hesitantly placing a hand on Daveth’s shoulder.

  “Oh! I was with the Rover!” he replied, rolling back onto the balls of his feet excitedly.

  “Bullshit, dude.” Roy grinned.

  “I’m serious!” Daveth argued, pouting dramatically.

  “The Rover?” Adam repeated incredulously.

  “Um, who is the Rover?” Edwin interrupted, standing off to the side warily, even whilst his gaze was intensely focused on Daveth, something almost protective in it.

  “He’s a madman.”

  “A serial killer.”

  Solomon made a high-pitched noise, concern intensifying on his face as he turned his attention back to Daveth for explanation.

  “No, he’s actually quite nice,” Daveth said, shifting awkwardly.

  “Doesn’t he wear a skull mask?” Roy pointed out.

  “Well, I mean yes, but…”

  “And carry a knife around with him?” Adam added.

  “I mean, he does, but…”

  “And fight with the gangs?”

  “Well, yes…but he’s still nice!” Daveth exclaimed, crossing his arms over his chest.

  “Sounds it,” Edwin muttered disbelievingly.

  “There’s no way you spent the night with the Rover.” Adam threw his hands up in the air, exasperated.

  “I did!” Daveth protested. Adam grunted dismissively, but then grinned.

  “I’m glad you’re safe, boy!” Adam pulled Daveth into a hug then, taking the opportunity to rub his knuckles against the Brit’s scalp, and laughing at the panicked squeaks that erupted from the other man.