Destined Mann-er - Part 2

Akat sat silently, staring outside the window. He had no idea where he was being dragged off to.

Prapit glanced at the side, but said nothing.

Akat was angry. He knew it. But he didn't know any other way but force.

Initially, he had come over, intending to pursue Akat to going home with him.

The moment Akat called him uncle, he lost it.

Uncle Prapit. Distasteful.

Once upon a time he had tried forcing Akat into calling him that, but Akat had staunchly refused.

He laughed bitterly to himself, at the irony of his situation.

They drove in silence throughout the night.

Prapit was not taking Akat to his house in downtown Marina. Where they were going was a mystery to Akat.

Akat was exhausted. He slowly slipped into his dream world.

Prapit glanced at his sleeping face and sighed to himself. The little boy that he had picked up in the streets was gone. Now it was a gaunt pale young man he was looking at.

Everything had started thirteen years ago, at the Bar 109 , the local haunt for the underground dogs.

The bar smelt of cheap perfume, cigarette and alcohol.

Women with little character, mostly keeps or illicit affairs, haunted the place. Ocassionally politicians and police officers, who had no qualms about dirtying their hands, showed up.

Prapit was a known name in this circle. He was fierce and well feared. Though he preferred to talk rather than to take out his gun, he did pull the trigger, if push came to shove.

His henchmen had decided to throw him a treat on his birthday. He found such events distasteful, but had decided to humour them. They genuinely loved him. And, they were his only family.

He wore his usual black clothes with the black coat, giving him a rather morbid vibe and walked in.

His gang had arranged for a couple of hostesses, who seemed to be working overly hard at their jobs, trying to touch him inappropriately, getting him to loosen up.

Everybody wanted Prapit. He was like a leopard, builtwise and in speed.

When his team got themselves completely drunk, they became loud and handsy, he decided he had had enough. He walked outside and took his cigarette outside to smoke.

He took a huge whiff and let it out slowly. This was relaxing. He had been smoking since he was fourteen. It started as a dare, and became a power symbol. Which underdog didn't smoke?

But before he could take in another whiff, someone went on a coughing spree.

He turned his head in the direction of the cough and spotted a young kid, must be barely high school, doing his homework. He wore his server uniform.

"I'm sorry, I didn't see you there."

The kid did not react. He continued to write.

Prapit stared at him. "Do you not like the smell of smoke?"

The kid looked up. "I do not fancy having cancer, and the smell is nauseating."

Prapit laughed. Refreshingly honest. He liked this kid.

"Aren't you underage to be working in a place like this?"

Again, no response.

"You don't talk much huh?"

Silence.

He stared at the kid, who seemed focused on his homework.

"Go home and study. This light isn't good for your eyes."

The kid got up. He checked his watch.

His arm appeared to be bruised. He bowed his excuse and walked back into the bar.

Prapit stared after him for sometime, then decided to follow him.

He liked this kid somehow. He reminded him of himself.

The eyes looked defiant and determined. The jet black hair cut short emphasised on his high cheek bones and the firm lips, showed his stubborn nature.

The bartended said, "clean the tables, leave the last table alone."

The boy nodded and started clearing up the tables one by one. He approached the table where Prapit's gang were still boozing.

Without disturbing them, he cleared the glass bottles and cups.

One of the hostess got fresh with him. "Hey handsome!" She said, squeezing his back.

The boy grit his teeth and then, turned casually dousing her with beer from an half empty glass. "Ah, my bad. Your sudden action got me startled."

Prapit chuckled as he observed from the shadows.

The lady got furious. She clung on to his uniform, struggling to get up. "How dare you!" She slurred.

The boy sighed. "I think you are too drunk. Let me know if I can call the cab for you."

She grabbed him by his collar. "You tiny thing, you dare push me off? Do you know what happens to people who hurt my pride?"

He gently removed her hand. "You are flinging yourself on random people. Where is that pride when you need it?"

Prapit smiled. This kid was witty.

Both Prapit and the kid were not ready for what happened next.

The drunk hostess grabbed a bottle and with all the force she could muster, hit the kid, who instinctively covered his face with his hand.

The bar-in-charge came running over and dragged the kid as he profusely apologised.

He then turned to the kid and slapped him across the face.

"You misfit! How dare you be impolite to our guest! You are fired. Get out."

The boy had no expression. He was used to this. This was evident. Anyone else would have shouted or protested.

He has lost all hope in people, just like me. Prapit thought to himself.

Prapit walked casually towards where the boy stood. He put his hand around the boy's shoulder. The bar owner's face turned white.

"Boss, you know this boy?"

"He is mine. You will be facing legal charges for unlawful employment, physical abuse and promoting prostitution."

With that he paid the bill and walked out, gently dragging the kid with him.

Outside the shop, the boy went to gather his books.

Prapit followed him."Where are you going now?"

The boy shrugged, "school probably. I sleep in the infirmary. No one notices."

Prapit noticed the blood trickling from his arm.

He lazily replied, "Did I not say earlier? You are mine. You'll do what I say."