Watch Your Back

.:Prologue:.

   The alleyway was faintly lit by the orange glow of a cherry from someone's cigarette. The brick walls were wet with the rain from the previous hours, and the sounds of cars and people shouting could be heard in the distance. The tall, muscular man leaned up against the wall, zipping up his leather jacket over his Metallica t-shirt as he took a long drag from his cigarette and then flicked the ashes onto the ground. He raised his head and blew the smoke in the air, then lowered it once more to hide his features with his feathery black hair and the black leather fedora that he wore atop his head. The sound of heavy footfalls filled the narrow alley, and soon enough, there was a looming shadow over the man in the leather jacket.
   "A friend of mine sent me here," A deep voice murmured, though the low tone of his voice didn't stop it from echoing off of the slick, dark walls. "He said you're the kind of guy I need to see if I've got ex trouble."
   "That depends." The man in the leather jacket chimed, raising his head to reveal his face; deep-set molten chocolate eyes, heart shaped lips pressed together in a smirk, cheekbones that looked as though they were sculpted from marble, and a square jawline with just the right amount of facial hair dusting his chin. "What do you mean by trouble?"He took in the sight of the man that was requesting his help; tall, somewhat heavy set, with shaggy blonde hair and bright blue eyes. He had braces, too.
   "The little twat is ruining my life." He grumbled, shoving his hands into his jean pockets. "He's telling people lies about me. I've lost my job, all of my friends have turned their backs on me, and I've had to move back home with my mother because my apartment manager kicked me out." He leaned up against the opposite wall from the brown-eyed man, staring down at his feet with a scowl painted across his features.
   "That doesn't tell me what you want me to do about it." The feathery-haired man teased cockily, raising one jet black brow upwards.
   "I want him dead." The other male growled, his eyes alight with fury. "I want you to get close to him, make him think he can trust you, and then kill him." The brown-eyed man let a smooth chuckle bubble from between his lips, taking one last drag from his cigarette before he tossed it to the ground and snuffed it out with the heel of his black Converse.
   "Let me see what I'm dealing with." He chuckled, his brown eyes tinted with amusement. The heavier male pulled out his phone, scrolling with his thumb for a moment before he turned the screen to face the man in the leather jacket.
   "His name is Zachary James Baker. He goes by Zacky." The blue-eyed man said, the name of his former boyfriend seeming to taste bitter on his tongue. The picture showed a sweet, innocent looking boy, probably no older than his early twenties, with jet-black hair that had a few purple patches. Hazel eyes peeked out from behind the dark hair, and his plump lips were pierced with silver hoops and pressed together in a shy smile. He could easily admit this boy was fucking adorable.. But he knew that his feelings would only get in the way, so he repressed that thought and let out another chuckle.
   "He's cute.. You sure you want him dead?" He grinned teasingly, raising a jet black brow once more. The other man glared at him, sending a silent warning with just one look. "I'm kidding. I'm the man you need," The brown-eyed man kicked himself off of the wall and extended his tan, tattooed hand, implying that he wanted to shake hands. "Name's Brian Haner, but call me Syn when we're discussing this. I don't want my real name to be associated with this."
   "Alright.. Syn," The other man tested the name cautiously, hesitating for a moment before he finally decided to shake hands with Syn. "My name's Eli.. Don't let him know that you know who I am." Syn nodded, giving Eli's hand a firm shake before he took his own hand back and shoved it in his pocket.
   "This is gonna come at a price, Eli." The brown-eyed man warned, raising his brows.
   "Name it."
   "Ten grand." Syn stated plainly, waiting for the same reaction he always got; a wince and some sort of negotiation technique. Surprisingly, though, Eli nodded in agreement. "When the job is finished, I'll need you to write me a check for ten. If it's not redeemable, I'm coming after you." He growled, his brown-eyes tinted with warning.
   "The money will be there." Eli assured him, and once the two had exchanged phone numbers, he stepped out of the dark alleyway and began his walk home. Syn looked down at his feet, sighing softly as he played with the zipper on his leather jacket. Don't let yourself get attached, don't let yourself get attached.. He thought, reflecting back on how Eli had said that he wanted him to get close to Zacky. He just hoped that he wouldn't let himself get carried away and get too close to be unable to perform his duties.