Michael wasn't a stranger to feeling alienated. Day and night he was pushed around by the rough hands of his drunk father, violence dripping from them with the same venom his words carried. It was routine, until his skin was covered in purple, blues and red tones with finger marks around his neck.

He wasn't anything more than the dirt below people's shoes at the street, random people who passed by and tended to bump against him without a care in the world. Because he was just that, a nobody with only his father and poor family history behind him.

Until you stepped in his life. Everything that he wasn't and didn't had the chance to be. You had his age, but unlike him, your skin wasn't marred in different hues, you didn't flinched, you didn't hung your head low, no, you smiled and laughed and you even dared to hold his hand gently and claim you two were friends.

Normal people like you, good people, shouldn't interact with the peebles that got stuck in the sole of your shoes like him. Or at least, that's what he thought.

But whatever attempts or thoughts he had on pushing you away, keeping you at arms length, vanished entirely the first time you uttered his name like it was something you held close to your heart.

Michael was a nobody, barely a person in his father's eyes and in the eyes of the strangers that surrounded him in the streets when he was out roaming them, but with you around, he decided that he wanted to be a nobody around you. Even if he had no future, even if you and him were so different, even if he wasn't worth the effort or the time; he still wanted to stay beside you as much as he could.

Good things like this didn't happened often to him, or at all, and he was going to treasure it.