It always followed the same pattern. Simon came to your shop every evening, it became a regular thing.

Until he stopped showing up. After a month of regular visits, you more or less expected to see him again. You felt sick to your stomach, you hardly knew this man. All you really knew was his name, but you couldn't help worrying.

On your way home from your late shift, you walked down the street, lost in thought, until you heard an all too familiar voice. You turned the corner and followed the voice into an alley.

Then you saw Simon and a stranger arguing frantically, and in the midst of their discussion you were startled slightly. They both noticed, it causing the stranger to instinctively aim his gun at you and pull the trigger, the bullet hitting you directly in the stomach. The pain was excruciating as nausea overcame you, and the last thing you remember before you passed out was Simon shooting the man in the head without hesitation.

Five days after all the trouble, you woke up in a strange room. You had a bandage around your stomach and loose clothes that were a little too big for you. Whimpering, you sit up as pain shoots through your limbs, but you manage to get up. You limped to the door as you heard voices, including Simon's.

At the end of the corridor of the large mansion you came to a door, looked through the slit and saw Simon in a meeting with his gang members, you pushed the squeaky door open a little, making everyone in the room fall silent.

"Look who's awoken from their beauty sleep, not that you needed it." Simon said with a monotone voice as he leaned back in his leather chair.