The Formula

Prologue

Loud voices interrupted Felix's thoughts. A group of men swaggered down the street up ahead, their features highlighted frequently by the soft glow of the streetlamps as they made their way along the sidewalk. Felix pulled his jacket tighter around himself, pulling his sunglasses tighter over his nose.

One thing he loved about wearing wide, reflective glasses was that others couldn't see his eyes or read the judgements which flashed through his mind. Troublemakers the lot of them. Undoubtedly. He slowed his pace and hoped to himself that they would cross the street at the upcoming crosswalk, but they didn't.

Then he saw one of them point discretely towards him. At least they tried to make it discreet. The other three cast conspicuous glances in his direction. A smile, a crack of the knuckles. Shoulders tensing, a soft curse that bode no good will.

Felix hesitated as he strode on, thrusting his hands deep into his jacket pockets, trying to give the impression he held some sort of weapon. Was it too much? Was it too easy to tell he was faking it?

A car drove by, disturbing the steam issuing forth out of a manhole, and he changed his direction under the temporary distraction, hoping to lose the attention of the men. One of them called out to him—he didn't hear what he said exactly—but Felix had already slipped into an adjacent alley.

The corridor was tight, with a fire exit crawling up one side. There were no windows facing within the alley. He trod through some muck, aiming to put some distance between him and the men before they rounded the corner—or even better, simply passed by.

"You there!" one of them called out to him.

Felix turned his body, peering through his sunglasses over the collar of his jacket. His glasses were dark and the alleyway darker; he could barely see, but he wasn't going to take them off anytime soon.

"That's right, rock star, we're talking to you. Where are you off to in a hurry?"

Felix said nothing, but studying them as they approached, fanning out as to semi-surround him.

"I'm going to make this real simple," the foremost man said with a smirk. The shirt under his fake-leather jacket was too low and too tight. "We want your money and not your life."

"That's right, chum," another snarled. "Give us all you got!"

Felix pursed his lips and took a deep breath. As the apparent leader—the one with the pseudo-leather jacket—approached, he slowly removed his wallet from his pocket. He held it out.

The mugger grinned to his buddies over his shoulder and reached for Felix's wallet. Before he could seize it, Felix dropped it.

"You think you're being funny then?" the mugger growled. "Do you want to die, buddy? Pick it up. Now."

Felix stood his ground, curious more than anything, what the mugger would do next. He shivered on the inside, and his heart beat faster than what seemed possible—thrumming through his ears and filling his body with anticipation. He felt himself tense as the mugger stooped over with an angered moan.

The other three rushed up to their leader as he opened the wallet, excited to see what it held. Felix shirked, hoping the ordeal would end soon and he could go on his way. The muggers removed any cards and cash in the wallet and cast it to the ground.

"That's all you got, rock star?" the lead mugger asked.

Felix nodded. "If you're done, I'll be on my way."

The leader took a few steps closer, his neck bent and teeth bared, as if sizing up a meal. He came right up to Felix, his face mere centimetres away from his. "What else you got?"