//strangers in the night
finn flicked his finger downwards, locking his thumb against the button tightly and watching as the small yellow-orange flame danced before his warm brown eyes.
click.
he released.
click.
the flame shot up again, this time slightly larger. finn carefully pulled the lighter closer to his face, observing as the thin line of black smoke rose in a trail toward his ceiling. he felt the heat radiating off of the stark metal and onto his forehead.
click.
he released again, the metal tube quickly swallowing up the sparkling flame. finn sighed as he shoved the blue bic lighter into his tight pocket. sirens rang lowly in the distance, something he was used to now. they were probably after his brother, again.
finn stood up from his bed, taking slow steps towards the fire escape on the far wall of his bedroom. he stood before the dirty glass window, stained with finger prints and other unknown substances. he grabbed the lock carefully, twisting it to the left and briskly sliding open the window. within a few seconds, he was standing on the thin metal bars, overlooking the dingy alleyway only a few stories up.
the platform creaked as he shifted his weight, taking a seat on one of the stairs and leaning towards the not so sturdy guard railing. he looked below him, glancing in between his feet through the open bars. about four stories below him, was the stained, cracked concrete with weeds woven between where the brick walls met the ground. next to the dumpster, there was the white outline of a man carved into the ground. it wasn't new to him, growing up in the most crime filled neighborhood in the city. fuller park.
he propped a cigarette between his lips, tilting his head back and watching the stream of smoke mix with the cold fog from his breath, in the windy winter air. the nicotine burned his lungs as he exhaled, grinning to himself in pleasure.
he thought about the girl from last night, and wondered what really happened. his mind was foggy. the only pieces he could bring back into his clouded idea were her shaggy dark brown hair, her eyes that had turned almost as red as her smeared lipstick and the scent of alcohol radiating from her shivering body. he could also remember that she seemed scared, which was odd for a chicago girl. the way she stiffened in his arms as her breathing slowed left him pleased. he loved scaring people, it was his thing.
yeah, he was tough. he grew up in the worst city in america, surrounded by drugs and violence his whole life. it was almost all he knew. his mom was nowhere to be found, who even knows about his dad. he saw him every now and then, when he stopped in to grab some money or brought a lady home. for all finn knew, he could be the city's drug lord. as for his brother, nick, he was definitely worse than finn. he was part of a gang, often seen around the city flashing his black and white bandana. he sold drugs, drank, got into fights and carried guns around, showing them off to anyone who got in his way. once, that person in his way had been finn.
he was bad, but not like nick. he was tough and knew how to use his words, he was sly and almost unseen when he snuck through the dark night. he carried a gun, using it to protect himself. but with his brother's high power and his bad-guy looks, he didn't need much protection. anyone who actually tried to mess with him deserved what they had coming.
finn let out a deep breath, slipping back through the window and not bothering to close it. he bent over the stained carpet, lifting the dark leather jacket up and sliding it over his pale, goosebumped arms. he zipped it up slowly, then reached for the black gun resting on his nightstand.
