Purpose

Prologue

Run.

That is what keeps on repeating in his mind.

Run.

Run as fast as you can.

He can hear the sirens behind him. There are also people yelling profanities at him.

They'll catch up.

He should be scared that the police might catch him but he is not.

He smiled.

He can feel his chest tightening from trying to catch his breath as he ran. His heart is beating fast from the adrenaline rush.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

I'm alive.

He loved the feeling of the thrill, it's like he is standing on the edge of the building.

He made a turn in an alley he knew fully well. He knows the secret passages of this alley like the back of his hand.

He went inside an old building and ran to the second floor towards the last room of the aisle.

He stopped outside the door to catch his breath and he laughed.

He searched for the keys in his bag and opened the door of Room 1998.

Lo and behold, their hideout filled with writings on the walls and instead of neatly framed pictures hanging on it, the wall is full of messily pasted polaroid and printed pictures of the people whom he considers as friends.

The apartment is small and it barely consists of any equipment but he'd prefer it than any other place on earth.

This hideout is the only place that four boys feel the safest.

As he closed the door, his attention was immediately turned to a boy tending to his bruises at the dining table.

"Why did he beat you up this time?"

"What did you steal this time?"

Answering a question with another question. He figured the other does not want to talk about it so he decided to drop the subject.

"Of course I stole our food, Title," he said in a dramatic tone.

Title looked up and motioned for him to tone down his voice as he pointed to the sofa where a red-haired boy was sleeping.

"Lower down your voice, Mean."

"Oh, sorry." Mean went to the dining table and placed his bag. "Was Gun here before you arrived?"

Title nodded quietly as he took a glance at the redhead sleeping on the sofa.

"I'm really amazed how you can still go inside the convenience stores you steal from," Title said in amusement to change the topic.

"I always wear a cap and mask," Mean said. "I mean, would you think someone as handsome as me is a thief?"

"Yes, because looks are deceiving." Title raised an eyebrow. "And where's the handsome part? I don't see any."

Mean frowned and pointed at his face. "This. This face is immaculate."

"Wow, immaculate. Really," Title snorted a laugh. "But honestly, I won't think that a law student like you is a thief."

They both laughed at the absurd truth before the door clicked open.

And then came the last person in their squad wearing a hospital gown underneath his jacket.

"Hey," the pale newcomer greeted.

"Hey," Mean greeted back. "The losers are complete now."

"Welcome back, Saint," Title said.

Saint smiled at them and said, "I'm home."