illicit | five hargreeves - EDITING

one

chapter one: sacred new beginnings

Anthony Baudelaire stood outside the Commission building, leaning against the bricked wall. He brought a lit cigarette to his lips, closing his eyes momentarily as he inhaled the nicotine, feeling the heat quickly rushing to his lungs. He liked the feeling, the calmness it brought over him, the way he physically felt his muscles relax every time he inhaled and then exhaled.

Upon opening his eyes again, Anthony glanced around at his surroundings, watching as all of the cheery and happy employees walked passed him, smiling while they chatted with each other. How they could ever possibly be so happy in a place like this? He honestly had no idea, but he did know that he fucking hated every single thing about that place.

Anthony had first come to the Commission when he was only barely seventeen years old, a mere few days after his mother had quite literally kicked him out of their home, pushing him out onto the streets of New York City. He was basically helpless, left alone with no money, no shelter, no protection. The city that he once loved no longer seemed like "The greatest city in the world" as he had before thought. Thanks for the false advertising, Lin Manuel Miranda.

The seventeen year old had spent just over three weeks alone, before he was approached by a woman who called herself 'The Handler'. She never did explain to him why she didn't have a real name, and to this day he still doesn't know why. The strange but intriguing woman had offered the young adolescent a job, at a place called the 'Commission'. Anthony was hesitant to take her up on the offer, because after all he had never heard of that company before. He evaluated his choices, and came to the conclusion that it was either go with her or stay homeless on the streets; so he took her up on the offer.

It had now been six years since the day that he first met the Handler. Perhaps taking her up on said offer was his biggest fuck-up in life, which really is a big deal since Anthony had definitely fucked up a lot. His biggest regret? Definitely. His biggest fuck-up? Debatable. He did soon realize that he should've been even just slightly smarter, and should've known that it was stupid to sign such an unusually long contract, because twenty years was a long time.

The twenty-three year old rolled his eyes in annoyance as he threw his cigarette to the ground, crushing it with the top of his shoe and hearing the slight hiss of the flame as it went out. Anthony pulled the cigarette packet out of his jacket pocket, flicking it open and pulling out another one. He placed it between his lips, holding it there for a few seconds as he continued looking around. He simply didn't have enough energy anymore to care about how his consistent smoking was going to affect his lungs; he'd had worse things done to his body throughout his six years at the Commission.

"You know smoking is bad for you, right?" a voice suddenly asked as the person sauntered up towards Anthony in a casual manner "That shit will kill your lungs"

"Je te tuerai si tu ne te tais pas" Anthony muttered under his breath, the other man had no idea what it meant "Yeah, well my lungs aren't worried, thanks for the concern though, I'm sure they really appreciate it" he replied sarcastically, rolling his eyes dramatically, reaching into his pocket and pulling out a lighter, using it to light the cigarette.

"Well, you seem nice" the man said sarcastically.

"Hey, I'm not the one trying to give a stranger life and health advice here" Anthony defended with a shrug, taking a long drag of his cigarette, turning his head to exhale the smoke, making sure not to get it into the man's face.

"I'm just trying to help you" he defended.

"Yeah, but did I ask?" Anthony asked.

"Hm, that woman told me that everyone here is nice and friendly, she has very obviously never dealt with you" he commented.