All Different Sides

Assassin

It was just past midnight, the orange lights of the lamp posts that were scattered around the sidewalks giving off little light along with the bright phone screen that illuminated the boy's face as he listened to music.

His black attire helped him blend into the night, and his mint green eyes watched at the cars below him zoomed past.

The songs flowed into his ears through his headphones, blocking out the loudness of the city and its people. He whispered the words under his breath and began tapping his fingers against the brick he sat upon.

He should be working right now, thinking of a plan to execute.

Instead, here he sat at the top of an apartment complex, legs dangling over the ledge, and his hands gripping the rough brick as he swung his legs back and forth not having a care in the world.

A cool breeze crashed into his lean frame and ruffled his already messy red hair and the boy ran a hand through it, trying to fix the tangled mess to the best of his ability. He studied the few people out walking at this hour, the way they conversed with each other and seemed to enjoy each other's company.

The boy never had that. Never had anyone that could make him laugh like these strangers could with each other, nor did he even have any friends for that matter.

Growing up, that wasn't a top priority.

It didn't bother him, however. He enjoyed his own company. Enjoyed the silence, which is why this time was his favorite time of the day.

The boy shivered and paused his tapping to zip up his jacket before sliding his sleeves over his hands to keep them warm.

It was a cold fall day, the colorful leaves littering the ground pedestrians walked on and the wind causing people to have runny noses and colds that never seem to go away.

The boy couldn't afford to get sick, which was bound to happen eventually if he kept dressing the way he was. With only a short-sleeve shirt and a thin jacket keeping him warm, the boy was doomed.

He could see his breath every time he breathed out, and the chilling wind shaking him to his core.

He knew he should probably head inside, but for some reason, he was frozen in place and it wasn't because of the cold.

The boy was staring at a couple holding hands and smiling at each other as if their whole world was right beside them. He couldn't hear them from his spot on the roof, but he could tell that they were enjoying their conversation by the way their faces lit up when one of them talked.

They weren't super old but also weren't young. They looked to be about in their early forties, perhaps?

The boy grit his teeth and turned away, throwing his feet back over the ledge and shoving his phone in his pocket.

Forget about it, he thought. Forget the fact that I wish my parents were as happy as them.

Forget that I wished they actually loved each other and got along.

Who needed happiness anyway?

Not him.

The boy believed he was fine the way he was.

But that didn't mean it was true.

Deep down he wished he was a normal seventeen-year-old. One that went to school and played sports where his parents would watch and cheer him on, feeling a sense of pride that he was their son who happened to be happy and successful in life.

He wished-

A ringing noise filled the boy's headphones and his music immediately stopped playing, his phone screen brightening and an unknown number flashing across the screen.

Without missing a beat he accepted the call and a rather deep voice filled his headphones.

"Are you there yet?" The voice asked in a serious tone.

"Daniel, baby, what's up? How's retirement treating ya?"

Daniel Bowes was never amused. He was only interested in one thing in life and that was business.

Business. Business. Business.

It was what he lived for, thrived for. He loved the thrill of negotiating and convincing others to invest their money into his hands, where he safely tucked it away and used it to build his empire.

Mr. Bowes owned Bowe Tech., one of the most successful selling technology stores in several states. He was named the fifth richest man alive when he was only twenty-three and only earned more cash as he aged.

The man was set for life, something the boy was jealous of.

You'd think that Mr. Bowes had it all, but he didn't.

The boy found this out when he was called in for a favor.

A favor that would have the boy set for life also once said favor was completed.

All Mr. Bowes had to do to convince the boy to do his dirty work was to say a number. A very high number, as a matter of fact, and the boy was sold.

A deep growl filled the silence after the boy had spoken and he didn't have to see the man to know that he had rolled his eyes.

"First of all, I asked you a question Mr. Luxfield. I need an update on your location. Secondly, I am not retired so stop asking me that every time we speak," Mr. Bowes grit out.

Another thing about Mr. Bowes: he had serious anger issues. Some say he's in therapy for it.

"I just arrived in Michigan today. Tomorrow I plan on tracking down the girl, killing her, and then walking away with my fifteen million dollars," the boy said, picking at his nails. "Sounds like a plan?"

A sigh on the other line could be heard, then

"You know it's not going to be that easy, Mr. Luxfield. I can assure you that there will be other people out there trying to get their hands on the same target. I just want to make it known that I want YOU to kill her, then bring her to me. Then, and only then, can you take your money."

"I already know the drill, Bowes. This isn't my first rodeo."

"Just get the job done and get it done fast. I don't need people finding out about this fiasco. This could ruin me. For good."

The boy nodded his head, even though the man couldn't see him. "I got you, Daniel. I'm your man. Your main bro. Your outside man. Your inside man. Any man you need me to be."

"Good. In that case, be the man who knows when to shut their mouth. You're giving me a headache and I'm losing brain cells just talking to you."

"Okie dokie, bossman."

"Oh, and Arkyn?"

"Yes?"

"If you ask me if I am retired one more time I am going to have one of my men shoot you."

"You make me blush, Bowes."