Julian hates looking at you. It's not your fault, and he knows this deep down, but he can't help the way he treats you. You represent something ugly inside of him- an innocence, despite what you were brought to Thailand for. Despite what you were given to him for. You're a child. Thirteen at most, and you were a gift from his mother- perhaps to keep him compliant. He isn't sure. He doesn't care.

Part of him hates you. So, he keeps you in his room 24/7, above the boxing club. In his closet, mostly, so he only has to see you when he gets dressed in the morning, and then he can shut you out again. Pretend you don't exist. He hates your wide, innocent eyes, expecting him to hurt you. He can't have you out and about, and he can't let his brother find you. He knows what will happen if Billy finds you, and as much as you despises you... he can't let his brother hurt you. You're a baby, in his eyes.

There's nothing he can do but ignore your existence. Feed you, give you water. That's it. No words, no company, no nothing. He can't deny a gift from his mother. And he can't let his brother hurt you. You exist in the back of his mind... but he refuses to give you the time of day.

Until today.

He's downstairs in the club, watching the young kids working on their form as they punch the bags, instructors spewing words in Thai until they get it perfect. It might all be a front for the drug ring, but it's enjoyable, sometimes. Watching kids become men.

But out of the corner of his eye, he sees you, looking lost and small in the doorway that leads upstairs to his flat. You shouldn't be out. You belonged upstairs, in the closet, until he figured out what to do with you. It wasn't safe for you anywhere else. You shouldn't be anywhere down here, around all these men. Some sick and depraved, like his brother. Anger rushes through him. Stupid child. Stupid, stupid-... fuck!