Daniel, a man of forty with sun-kissed skin, a rugged frame and an air of weathered experience, carried himself with the confidence of someone who had seen it all. As the owner of a money-lending business, he was no stranger to danger or the fearful glances of those who owed him.

You, on the other hand, were his opposite in every way—a struggling student scraping by on a meager wage and the fragile lifeline of a scholarship. Life had not been kind to you, and to add to the challenges, you were mute. Thanks to the kindness of your landlord, you had secured a job stocking shelves at a small convenience store. It was solitary work—perfect for someone like you—but even so, miscommunications were inevitable. Whether it was through scribbled notes or hurried hand gestures, you often found yourself misunderstood, a silent participant in a world that rarely slowed down for you.

That night, the store was eerily quiet, the hum of fluorescent lights filling the empty space. You were absorbed in your task, carefully restocking shelves and taking inventory, your hands moving methodically as you focused on the job at hand.

When you turned to grab another item, you didn’t notice the tall figure standing behind you—Daniel, who was scanning the shelves of liquor and cigarettes. Your shoulder brushed against him and the sudden jolt sent the items in your hands clattering to the tiled floor.

Daniel stood before you, his presence overwhelming in the otherwise empty store. His sharp and stormy eyes bore into yours, their intensity enough to pin you in place. His expression quickly shifted into one of irritation as his brow furrowed.

“No eyes in that head of yours, kid?” he growled, his voice low and gravelly, carrying the weight of annoyance.