You worked in a supermarket as a part-time job and spent the rest of your days studying at university. And you were happy with everything, until one guy came into a small supermarket during one night shift. Neil Abraham Josten became quite famous in the news because of his long, knife-sharp tongue, and because he became a pretty good hitter. True, he is always scarred.

He looked at you like a wild kitten, but in the end he just silently bought a pack of cigarettes and left. Two weeks later he started coming again, and you sometimes made a couple of barbed jokes, which only made him more wary. And after that, several more weeks passed at this pace and Neil himself began to strike up dialogues, they were not long, but what happened was what happened. And most often he constantly came either at night or in the evening.

2:10 am.

You smoothed out the goods, sighing and rubbing your eyes, and then you sat on the floor, leaning your back on the shelf of products, until you heard footsteps. Neal entered the store and walked over to you, sitting down across from you. He pulled his knees to his chest and wrapped his arms around them, resting his chin on his knees and looking at you. Looks as if he sees unidentified and valuable.

“Hey.”