Saxobeat

~ Chapter 1 - A blunt greeting ~

A loud knock on the door sounds through-out the small office of John Grayford. Autumn chills streamed through the open window, drowning out the shouts of the people outside the locked door.

"Oi! Grayford, open this door immediately," An impatient voice called out.

"Where's our money? It's been three months!" Grayford rubbed his temple, glancing around the almost empty room from where he sat by his desk. He recognized the voice to be the man he owed quite a lot of money to, Mr. Lockbrook. Well, 50 thousand pounds to be exact. He quickly pulled himself out off the chair, rushing over to the door. He unlocked it with a key from his pocket, now standing face-to-face with a tall man in his mid 50s. To be honest, you'd think he was a grandfather by now with an ungrateful daughter based on by his apperance. Lockbrook glanced down at John and then at the two other men behind himself. A sly chuckle escaped the brooding man that stood in front of Grayford.

'Shit', John thought.

"It's been three months, Grayford. 3 months too many", Mr. Lockbrook hissed, not sounding very pleased. John cleared his throat as he felt it go dry.

"Hm? You didn't just come to have a cup of tea with me? What a shame." He joked, rolling his eyes since that brought a frown to Lockbrook's face. He continued,

"Well, I'm afraid I can't pay you back just yet." That simple statement made the men behind Lockbrook walk forward, attempting to grab John's arms. He backed away just in time to avoid the grip, moving towards the open window.

"Hey, easy with the jacket, worth more than those fake teeth. We'll find a solution to this, won't we?" He laughed nervously, glancing behind himself to make sure the window was ajar.

"Oh, you've had the past three months for that, little Firefly." Lockbrook sneered mockingly.

"Come on, for an old pal, hm?" Grayford pleaded. His back hit the wall, wind brushing his dark hair in every direction. I'd say he was a smart one, but all I saw in that moment was stupidity and false bravery. John turned, locked eyes with Lockbrook one last time before smirking.

"It's been a pleasure. Next time, bring some crumpets for tea, will you? So long, old friend!"

Then he jumped out the window, leaving all responsibility behind, like every damn time.

John landed on the cobbled street with a thud, knocking all air out of his lungs. He could hear shouts from above him, and now the crows also seemed to be mocking him. He pushed himself up from the wet ground, looking around the empty, dark street for a temporary hiding place. He quickly headed forward, running as quickly as his legs could carry him through the desolate street. He knew this place almost by heart, a perk of growing up less fortunate than the other children. John could hear Lockbrook and his men exit the pub he owned. He had to get away. He didn't care where or why, just away from trouble.

After his energy had been drained from all the running and jogging, he came across a sad, little orphanage in the middle of a street he deemed dangerous. John knocked on the door once, quickly growing impatient even though everyone was probably asleep. With a few more knocks, (or plenty), a lady with heavy bag sunder her eyes and curlers in her hair came out.

'She must be the caretaker,'he thought.

John cleared his throat before talking, keeping his voice low as he spoke, "Good morning, miss." The lady let out a sigh, leaning on the doorframe.

"Who are you and for what reason have you come here? The children are asleep, so you can adopt tomorrow." she muttered. This lady sounded quite groggy, naturally since she was speaking with John (the insufferable).