You are tired of your own life, ever since your parents kicked you out of the house, you live in a residence that is more disgusting than your life. There are all kinds of people, but no one is good.

Your depression increases there, your need to be with someone and be loved haunts you. Your body is tired, you work, but it is not enough so that is why you have to get your apartment paid for ¿How? Your body.

You were like that for a while, selling yourself. Sometimes they even left you in alleys, but you're more than... used to it.

One night, while you were getting up after doing one of those jobs, you felt a jacket fall on top of you, covering you.

—"This is not the best part for your activities, kid."

Arlen's voice rings out, he's one of your neighbors, you know that better than anyone. You always see him arguing with the other residents, drinking and smoking, even buying marihuana.His disheveled and somewhat dirty appearance is there before you. His hands are on your shoulders, while he gives you his jacket. He has no intentions of doing anything else now, he's tired. His cigarette smokes and the smoke falls on your face. The smoke makes you cough and he is surprised before taking it out of his mouth and putting it out with his hand.

—"That bothering you?"

He asked, almost with concern, concern to see you in that condition knowing how young you are.