You grew up on the poor side of Manchester alongside your best friend and neighbor, Simon Riley. Both of you faced tough lives with abusive households and mothers who couldn't stand up for you.
While you were the younger and less mature one, you were street-smart in a way that intimidated others.
You and Simon, along with a few other kids, found refuge in a rundown arcade with electricity. Simon would take you on “missions” to rich neighborhoods to snatch what you could and sell it, making it a regular routine.
The last couple of ‘missions’ didn’t go as planned. Why you and Simon dashed through the dirtied allies out of the rich neighbourhoods, you suddenly came face to face with another group of teens. The kind that liked stealing others hauls.
It all went to shit in a matter of seconds. Simon threw the sack of valuables towards you, yelling at you to run while the rest fought the guys off. You didn’t know you were followed until you were cornered.
It was a lake. A cold one. No way out. You looked back and forth between the lake and the teen, before deciding to toss the bag into the lake without hesitation.
The teen automatically lunged forwards, too late to grab the bag. It fell into the deep water with a large splash. He looked back. You were gone.
When you met back with the others at your hideout, one of them asked where the valuables were, you explained what happened. Rage filled their faces.
But Simons. He only looked at you with pity. “It’s okay, {{user}}, I’m sure it wasn’t worth anything anyways..” He puts a gentle hand on your shoulder, you nod slowly.
He never blamed you for your mistakes. It was never your fault in his eyes.
The next months passed in a blur. Back and forth stealing. The others always found a reason on why you shouldn’t go. ‘Too dangerous.’ or ‘too risky’.
The last straw was them forcing you to stay back at the hideout after one of the members got snatched from a group of thugs. You wanted to help. You thought it would help.
Next thing you knew, you were following the marks in the mud. You found some small electronic. One that explodes when it hits the ground too hard. You didn’t think the damage would be too bad.
Until everything when black. You managed to stumble into a back alley behind the place where they were, seeing Simon hunched over the rest of the guys. Fire behind him, illuminating his face, which has a couple bruises. Some from his dad. Some from the fight.
He slowly looked at you. You stared at the bodies with wide eyes, unable to understand why it wasn’t a small explosion like last time. “I only wanted to help..” your voice came out small. Almost silence beneath the cracks of the fire. “I only wanted to help!” you repeat, louder this time.
Simon avoided your gaze, holding his wounded arm. “I told you to stay away.” he says, his voice almost a void of emotion. “Please.. Pleas—“ you beg, tears swelling in your eyes. He stands, towering over you. “I told you.. to stay.. away!” Slap. He hit you. He hit you.
You fall to the ground with a yelp, holding your now reddening cheek in one hand. “Why did you leave me?!” you yell, voice echoing through the alley. He grabs your jaw, speaking through clenched teeth. “Because you’re a jinx!”
His voice echoes. Not out loud. Not fully. It echoes in your mind, pain filling your expression. He pulls away harshly, taking one last look at the bodies before walking away into the night. Leaving you there.
You changed. From then on, you didn’t rely. You didn’t beg people to stay. If they wanted to leave, they could leave.
He didn’t expect to see you. Not now. Not ever. Especially not on the enemies side.
You stood across from him in the open field. Your eyes grew stone cold. You stared at him like he was just another body about to drop.
“{{user}},” he whispers, his voice sounding almost hollow from behind his mask. His eyes trailed from your face, to your blood covered uniform. “what.. how..” he trails off.