The Tokyo Hotel

Chapter 30

 Mikey's P.O.V.

I casually walked outside the Tokyo Hotel. A few people gave me curious stares, but I ignored them. People would always stare at me, at anyone really, there was no such thing as real privacy outside you room. I didn't really care though.  

Unlike most of the inhabitants I had actually spent my whole life living here. I was used to misery.

That didn't mean I didn't hate it just as much as everybody else though. But nobody ever saw it, because I sealed off my thoughts and emotions from everyone, like most people who spent a long time here. What I felt wasn't their business anyway.

I calmly walked to the back of the building. I scanned the area for anyone around looking at me.

Apart from a small group of people laying down a few feet away from me - clearly under influence of some kind of drug- there was no one in sight that could be watching me.

I walked up to a manhole cover next to the wall and screwed it open, reveiling a rusty ladder. I looked around me one last time before descending down, closing the entrance above my head.

Using my phone as a torch I walked down the small stone paths next to the sewer water. Sure it smelled terrible, but I had smelled worse. I arrived at my destination, a small metal door. I banged on it twice. The door slowly creaked open an inch.

"Name" a deep voice demanded.

"Mike" I replied.

"Your full name" the person behind the door growled.

"It's Mike, that's all you need to know" I calmly responded, taking a coin with the secret symbol incised in it out of my pocket and holding it in front of the door. "I'm a member, let me in" I said a little sharper this time.

The person on the other side didn't reply, instead the door opened wider, allowing me to get in.  "you're not gonna get a lot of new customers with that tactic just saying" I said to the gatekeeper as I walked past him. I took a deep breath and looked around at the little stands and the argueing people.

The black market was almost like a second home to me. And today I was going to say goodbye to this place for good, and honestly, it was hard.

I had come here for the first time when I was just thirteen. And since then I came here almost everyday, selling whatever expensive things I had stolen the night before. This is where I learned how to negotiate with people, how to read and manipulate people and even how to fight.

Maybe it wasn't the best place for a teenager and the things I learned weren't all good traits, but there was something soothing here too.

I figured that most people here also came to escape reality, just like me. In reality, we were all equal here, smart, sly, but deep down, perhaps a little bit lonely or lost.

I walked up to the table I usually stalled out my wares, and went trough the shelves at the back of it. I was clever enough not to store any valuable things in there, knowing there was always at least one person who would go trough my stuff to steal something as soon as I left, but things like notes or small things with emotional value were safe here.

As I started to empty them, I noticed someone walk up to me. I recognized him immediatly. Albert, my most frequent buyer.

"Good afternoon Mike, you got anything new?" he asked with a smile.

I shook my head. "I'm sorry Albert, I'm afraid this is the last time you'll see me here. I quit" I sighed.

Albert raised one of his bushy eyebrows. "How come?" he asked.