How did it come to this?
One moment, I was just another high school student—nothing special, nothing extraordinary. The next, I was a homeless nobody, thrown onto the streets like I was never even their son.
And all because of that bastard.
That damn supervisor fed my parents lies, twisting the truth just because he hated me. Said I skipped class to smoke, hang out with drug dealers, do 'bad things' in the back of the school. Bullshit.
Not once had I ever gone near that kind of life. And my friends? Sure, some of them weren't the best influences, but drug dealers? Where the hell did that even come from?
Yet, my parents believed him over me.
My hands clenched around the straps of my backpack as I ran. The cold air burned my throat, the distant glow of streetlights flickering past. I didn't stop. I didn't look back.
I didn't know where I was going.I just needed to get away.
Hours passed.
At some point, my feet had slowed to a walk. Then a stagger.
The streets stretched endlessly before me, the rain-slicked pavement glistening under flickering lamplights. The cold had settled deep into my bones, numbing my fingers inside my pockets.
I pulled my hood over my head, trying to block out the world. Trying to think.
I had nothing. No home. No family. The little money in my pocket wouldn't last long. Even if I stretched it, maybe I had... six, seven days?
And then what?
A motel? Too expensive. I could try a shelter, but who knew if they had space? And even if they did, what would I do after? Just sit there, waiting?
I needed work.
That thought kept repeating in my head. I need work. I need to make money. But how?
Most places wouldn't hire a high schooler off the streets. Even if they did, how long would it take before I got my first paycheck? A month? Two?
I could try odd jobs. Manual labor. Carrying boxes, washing dishes, whatever I could get. But would that even be enough to survive?
The numbers didn't add up. No matter how many scenarios I ran through, every road led to the same dead end.
And then the worst thought hit me.
Maybe I really can't do this.
Maybe my parents were right to throw me out. Maybe I don't belong anywhere.
I swallowed hard, shaking my head violently. No. No, screw that. I refused to give up. I just needed a plan.
I kept walking. Past closed stores, shuttered cafés, the occasional car speeding down the road. My reflection stared back at me in the darkened windows—a ghost of who I was this morning.
I tried to picture myself one week from now. Where would I be? Would I even make it that long?
No, stop. Keep thinking. Keep moving.
At one point, I passed a vending machine. My stomach twisted painfully, reminding me that I hadn't eaten since lunch. I checked my pocket—I had enough for a snack. But if I spent money now, that was less for tomorrow.
I clenched my jaw and kept walking.
Eventually, my body couldn't take it anymore. I found a bench outside a closed market, barely shielded from the rain, and collapsed onto it.
And for the first time in years—I broke.
Tears welled up in my eyes, my vision blurring as the reality of everything crashed down on me. This was real.
I was alone.
Unwanted.
Forgotten.
I pulled my knees to my chest, trying to make myself as small as possible. The night stretched on, cold and endless. The world moved around me, but I was stuck. Trapped in my own useless thoughts.
My body shook with silent sobs. I clenched my teeth, forcing my cries down my throat.
I hated this. I hated myself for feeling so damn weak.
Then, I felt it—a hand on my shoulder.
I flinched, wiping my eyes as fast as I could, my vision still foggy. A dark silhouette hovered over me, long black hair swaying slightly in the cold wind.
"Hey, Felix, you okay?" A familiar voice, soft yet filled with concern. "I was shaking you for like four minutes now..."
My chest tightened. I blinked a few times, clearing my sight, and there she was.
(from pinterest by LazyCat, but this what felix vendor looks like)
"M-Mary...?" I croaked out, shocked to see her here, in this city.
She frowned. "Yeah, it's me. What are you doing he—" She cut herself off, her expression shifting instantly.
Her gaze landed on my face, eyes widening in horror. "Oh my god—were you crying?"
She crouched down in front of me, her hands gently gripping my face, tilting it up to examine me like she was searching for injuries.
I tensed, trying to pull away. "I... I'm fine. Don't worry." My voice came out weaker than I wanted, and my throat burned from earlier.
She didn't buy it.
"Felix," she said firmly, her grip refusing to let me turn away. "You're clearly not fine."
My breathing faltered. I could already feel my eyes stinging again. Damn it—why now?
Her brows furrowed. "I don't know what happened... but you don't have to deal with it alone, you know?"
That was it.
I cracked.
Tears spilled over. This time, I didn't even try to stop them.
My body shook as I let it all out—all the pain, all the frustration, all the betrayal. And Mary, without hesitation, pulled me into a hug.
I don't know how long we stayed like that. Fifteen minutes? More?
When I finally pulled away, I wiped my face with the sleeve of my jacket, my voice hoarse. "Thanks, Mary... I really needed that." A small, almost imperceptible smile tugged at my lips.
She smiled back, a little sad, but warm. "That's what friends are for."
A beat of silence. Then, I sighed. "Before we part ways... do you know any really cheap motels I can stay at for the night?"
Mary's entire expression changed instantly.
Her eyes narrowed. "Wait. Why would you need a motel? Your house isn't that far from here, unless..." Her voice trailed off, realization dawning on her face. "Don't tell me."
I hesitated. Looked away. Damn it.
"Well..." I exhaled sharply. "I got disowned a few hours ago."
Silence.
Mary stiffened. "You got what?"
For a moment, she just stared at me, her hands trembling slightly, as if she was waiting for me to say I'm joking.
I didn't.
Her eyes darted across my face, searching for something—anything—to prove her wrong. "No, that can't be right." Her voice shook slightly. "They wouldn't just—just throw you out like that. Not over a lie. They love you, don't they?"
I swallowed hard. I wanted to tell her I thought so too. But I couldn't force the words out.
Her breathing hitched. She covered her mouth, her eyes glistening with unshed tears. She looked helpless.
The air between us grew heavy.
Then, her expression hardened. That sadness turned into determination.
"You're not sleeping in some cheap hotel." Her voice was firm, unshakable. "Come with me."
The night air was cold, but Mary's grip on my wrist was firm and unwavering. She didn't say a word, just pulled me forward, her pace quick and determined. I let her drag me through the empty streets, my mind still reeling from everything that had happened.
Each step felt heavier, my body sluggish from exhaustion and hunger, but I didn't resist. I didn't have the energy to. My eyes stayed glued to the pavement, watching our shadows stretch under the dim glow of streetlights.
She had found me at my lowest. Broken. Helpless.
And now, she was taking me somewhere unknown. Somewhere warm. But at what cost?.
When we finally reached her house, I felt my stomach twist into knots.
The house was big. Too big. A two-story mansion compared to my old home. The sight of it made me hesitate, my feet slowing against the stone pathway leading to the entrance.
Mary stopped in front of the door and turned to look at me. For the first time since we started walking, she loosened her grip, her fingers sliding down to hold my hand instead of my wrist.
"Just... don't say anything dumb, okay?" she murmured, voice softer now.
I swallowed hard. I wasn't sure I could even speak if I wanted to. My throat felt tight, my thoughts spiraling again.
She knocked.
And with each second that passed, the weight in my chest grew heavier.
What if they turned me away? What if this was a mistake? What if—
The door clicked open.
Warmth. The kind that clashed violently with the cold still clinging to my skin.
I stepped in hesitantly, my shoes pressing against a polished marble floor. The air smelled clean—too clean, like fresh wood and expensive cologne. The entrance alone was larger than my entire living room back home.
I felt out of place immediately.
Mary shut the door behind us, her movements calm, as if bringing home a stray was something she did every other day. But I could see the tension in her shoulders.
Then, footsteps echoed from the hallway. Heavy. Purposeful.
And when I looked up, there he was.
Mary's father stood before me, his sharp eyes scanning me like a man appraising a broken tool. His presence alone filled the room with an uncomfortable pressure, making me feel even smaller than I already did.
"So this is him?" His voice was deep, unreadable.
Mary crossed her arms. "Yes."
Silence. He studied me for a long moment, and I forced myself to stand still, to hold his gaze despite the unease settling in my gut.
Then, he sighed. "I don't take in strays. And I certainly don't take in freeloaders." His words hit like bricks, but I clenched my fists, bracing myself.
"I understand." My voice was hoarse, but steady. "I don't want charity."
He raised an eyebrow, then glanced at Mary. She said nothing, just waited.
Another long pause. Then, he spoke again, slower this time.
"You can stay. But under two conditions."
I didn't move, waiting for him to continue.
"First, you don't live in this house. You'll sleep in the garage."
I barely had time to process that before he moved on.
"Second..." His gaze hardened. "If you stay here, you work for me."
I frowned slightly. "Doing what?"
He tilted his head slightly, as if the answer was obvious.
"You'll be Mary's bodyguard."
The words almost made me laugh. Me? A bodyguard?
But looking at his expression, I knew he wasn't joking.
Mary glanced at me, her lips pressed together, but she didn't protest.
The room felt suffocating. The weight of everything pressing down on me.
Sleeping in a garage. Becoming her so-called 'bodyguard.'
It was humiliating.
But... I had nowhere else to go.
I met his gaze and nodded.
"Deal."