Stars? Isn't it supposed to be day? The first thing that crosses Alexander Ackrom's mind is confusion, the second are his own thoughts. I could've sworn I went to sleep when the sun went down. Did something wake me up?
Groggilly, he turns his head to the side of the bench he's lying on and squints at the short, plump figure in front him. Mr. Lowell? Why is Mr. Lowell here? What's he holding? His thoughts are still slow and groggy from the lack of sleep, as though they are trapped in molasses. He can only ask questions as his confusion washes over him in a cold wave. No, wait, that's the icy water Mr. Lowell is pouring on him from the bucket he's holding.
"I said! Go away, you bum!" Mr. Lowell screams at Alex as the last of the ice-cold water leaves the bucket.
In an instant, Alex is wide awake and sitting straight up. The shabby blanket that was covering him is now damp and the old tan backpack he was using as a pillow is in the same state. His salt and pepper hair, which normally hangs messily just above his eyebrows, is now soaked and sticking to his forehead. His emerald green eyes no longer squint, but instead glare at the man. His thin lips contort into a grimace, but they quickly turn into a mocking grin when a thought crosses his mind.
"Thank you for the shower, Mr. Lowell. I was just dreaming about how much I needed one. With this quality treatment, I'll make sure to lodge here more often!" Mr. Lowell's chubby face turns even angrier as he raises the bucket into the air, intent on hurling it at Alex.
Within the next moment, Alex rolls off the bench and lands onto the ground with a thump, then he shoots up with his hands raised in surrender. "Alright, alright! Let me get my things and I'll leave."
He starts bundling up his blanket as he speaks, but Alex can't resist adding one more remark: "You really are a harsh landlord. Even evicting those who sleep on the bench outside!"
"I am not your landlord goddammit!" Finally losing his temper, Mr. Lowell throws the bucket with all his strength at the back of Alex's head. Luckily, he's not only fat and old, but also short. As such, his throw barely misses and the bucket only clips Alex's left shoulder.
Alex winces a little at this, but before he can yell at the old man, Mr. Lowell storms back into his apartment building with an "I don't wanna see you around here ever again!"
Alex doesn't get mad at or resent him for this. In fact, he's a little glad. The reason is very simple; Alex sleeps on this bench once a week, just to annoy Mr. Lowell. When you're both poor and homeless, you need to find some ways of entertaining yourself.
Of course, Alex has other people he can pester, but Mr. Lowell is his favorite. As the sole owner of a large apartment building, he's very protective of it and the money it makes him. To the point that he chases away every tramp, vagrant, and hobo that appears within sight of the building. So, his reactions are always the best when Alex sleeps outside his building. The only downside is that Alex loses some sleep every time he does it.
Actually, how long did I sleep? He looks up into the sky and searches for the moon. After only a moment, he locates the pale white disk, then he measures the distance it's traveled across the sky since he went to sleep. As someone who's been living outside for the past seven years, learning to tell time from the sun and moon can be helpful. Granted, it's not that accurate, especially with him being self-taught, but Alex is at least able to tell the hours. Speaking of which… Not even an hour since I fell asleep, he's getting faster.
Suddenly, he hears a rumbling sound coming from his stomach. The sound continues for a second or two until it fades away and leaves an empty feeling. Alex places his hand over his abdomen and grumbles inwardly. I didn't realize I was so hungry. I need to get something to eat.
With a newfound sense of urgency, Alex examines himself and his things to make sure nothing has been stolen while he slept.
His dark greenish-gray raincoat is still on his body. That's to be expected, ever since he took it from a clothesline last year, he rarely takes it off. Even when sleeping. His old sneakers are still on. That's a relief. No one has taken the polyester belt and the large sheathed knife that hangs from it. Finally, he unzips the battered tan backpack and checks inside. Ten dollars in cash, a set of clothes, and some gum. Thank god for that!
Upon realizing that nothing's been taken, Alex breathes a sigh of relief. He does this every time he wakes up, just in case. Then, he thinks about what delicacy he should have tonight.
The food at HMS Gas is pretty cheap, and I haven't seen Jack in a while. No, I only have a few bucks left, I need to save up in case something happens. Maybe I can steal some food? No, that won't work either. The stores check customers for shoplifting and I doubt anyone's eating outside this late at night. He inwardly sighs. Trash it is I guess. Leo's tends to throw things out around now.
With his destination decided, Alex puts his arms through the backpack's loops and hoists it onto his back. Then he starts walking down the sidewalk in the direction of the restaurant: "Leo's Lunches."
While the sun has gone down, it hasn't been dark for long, so there are still a few cars and people walking down the cracked sidewalks and driving down the pothole-filled roads. Alex ignores them and keeps his mind focused on his destination. After around fifteen minutes, he finally makes it to the back alley of a colorful building that emits a tasty aroma.
The alley is dark and cramped, blocked by a chain-link fence at one end and barely illuminated by streetlight at the other. There are two large, gray dumpsters lining the wall. One of them is filled with cardboard boxes, while the other has black garbage bags of fresh, unsold food filling it. It's exactly how Alex remembers, except for one detail.
Violently projectile vomiting into the food dumpster is a man Alex doesn't recognize. He's wearing an extremely expensive three-piece suit, the kind Alex has only seen in the windows of stores or on high-ranking employees of the LT Corporation. Although, this suit is covered in stains and wrinkles, clearly having not been well taken care of in a long time.
The man's face is veiled by long, greasy, black hair, but Alex can make out a few features. His eyes, which are amber, are set deep into his skull. His nose is long and sloped, and his mouth, when it's not spewing vomit, should be wide with thin lips.
After a few seconds, the flow of puke and constant gagging that comes from the man finally recedes. He raises his sickly face from the dumpster and messily wipes the excess vomit with the sleeve of his suit.
Alex winces slightly at this. Expensive things should be treated nicely. Doing his best to ignore the blatant disrespect for money, Alex steps forward and asks nicely, "Is something in there poisonous?"
It's a half joke. Alex naturally assumes the man is also homeless and scavenging for some food in the trash. His suit is probably something from his "good ol' days". So, if something in the trash is poisonous, it probably affected the man, and thus, it could affect Alex.
Upon hearing this, the man looks at Alex with confusion, weak joy, and shock. "When did you get here!?" He loudly exclaims. Then he gives a weak grin and continues, "Heh, I'm just hungover. Care to hear why?"
"No." Alex is too hungry to listen to a long story.
"You see," the man says as though Alex said nothing, "earlier today I hit it big at the horse races! A full two thousand dollars! My pals and I decided to get some drinks before cashing the ticket!"
Alex's interest is suddenly renewed! Food is great, but money is better! So, he cautiously responds with fake awe, "Wow, that's a lot of money! And, do you still have the ticket on you?"
If he's able to rob this man and cash in the ticket, he can leave Rifield and go somewhere with less bad memories.
The man's grin widens as pride seems to beam from his eyes. "Pretty unbelievable, right? Well, I've got the proof right here!" Alex's excitement is palpable as the man reaches into his pockets. However, it dims after the first twenty seconds of searching. Then thirty seconds. Forty seconds. Fifty. After a full minute passes, his excitement is nonexistent.
Finally, after two minutes of rummaging in every pocket his suit has, the man stops searching and looks back at Alex with a shy grin. "Could you check if it's in the other dumpster? You're closer."
He lost two thousand dollars, and he's asking me to help look for it!? Alex inwardly grumbles. Whatever, I was planning to steak it anyway. If I find it I'll just run off.
He turns his body towards the dumpster containing the cardboard box and peers into it. As expected, there are only piles of folded cardboard and paper. Alex reaches his hands into it to rummage around, but no matter how hard he searches, there's not a gambling ticket in sight.
I should've expected this. Alex averts his gaze from the dumpster to tell the man about the lack of results. But, what he sees makes him widen his eyes and drop his jaw in surprise.
The man has disappeared!