“Buy real guns?” Oren eyebrows shot up, his eyes locked on his friend as he asked to be sure of his hearing, feeling as if he missed what Alfred had just said.

  They both walked down the open corridor, pumping their shoulders as they chatted along the way. Tall shadows of the side boulders danced on the ground, moving in rhythm with their sync steps.

  “Um, why the surprise?” Alfred titled his head, his dark crimson hair falling to the side as he asked in Confusion, not expecting the huge reaction from his friend…

  Did he say something wrong? They were just guns weren't they? he contemplated inwardly.

  The two of them had just finished the class session added to their schedule by their Language teacher, and now heading to the university exit. As it was Saturday, the university looked empty with so few students passing by, unlike its usual crowding. Also, the two friends took a scarce path unlike their classmates, because these weirdos don't tolerate being surrounded by a crowd of people.

  “Are you insane? Do you want me to get prisoned or what? Having Guns is illegal man. This is not a game!” Oren retaliated, feeling flabbergasted.

  He wasn't shocked at the suggestion of his friend, but at how nonchalant Alfred sounded, as if it was an everyday joke..

  Yes, playing a shooting game is okay, but getting real guns? No way! Oren still has a long life ahead to enjoy watching movies, and he didn't want to spend it caged inside four unbreakable walls along with some mindless predator.

  Just from where did his friend get the confidence from? It's not like him.

  “No one's gonna know about it if you zip it.” Alfred just shrugged his shoulders, not caring to explain, as it was a tiring task..

  “Nah, this won't do,” Oren shook his head in denial, clearly not intertaining the idea, “it's too risky.”

  Who would be on their right mind to buy a ticket to jail? No one sane would dare!!

  “Well, it's your problem.”

  It was his friend who started whining, talking about how his gun toys aren't fun anymore and they feel bland, asking for his help. Yet when he gave his opinion, his friend chickened out, what was he even expecting from an idiot? Alfred sneered inwardly.

  “Just forget it then.” Oren waved his hands dismissively, regretting even asking.

  Continuing their walk over the tiles decorating the paved road, the friend silently enjoyed the well cultivated gardens on either side of the long path.

  Oren was draped in his signature Large black hoodie, with bold “shoot&loot” printed on his back, under the hood hides his messy black hair.. His black sport pants contrasted his average white sneakers, and the backpack he carried on his right shoulder just added to the mix, making Oren appear like those school delinquents.

  But the truth is that he's far from being one, because Oren isn't as social…

  The sun shone brightly up in the sky, and a warm wind caressed their skin.

  Alfred loosened his collar, he felt a bit annoyed by the weather.

  He was wearing a light jacket over a black shirt and jean pants, with his large sneakers stepping on the titles in a slow rhythm. He held the backpack on his right, and the red gaming headphones could be seen coiling around his neck. A comfortable set he got used to, until today…

  “It's getting hot,” he murmured.

  “Yeah, and we also have exams two weeks later, making things worse. The second semester is ending so soon, man.” Oren commented dispiritedly. He was feeling down since the moment they were reminded of the nearing final tests, as he could already see the waiting revision waving at him from the distance, clearly mocking him.

  “But it's worth it, just listening to teacher Amanda talk and seeing her face for two hours straight surely is a big win.” Alfred added with a smile on his face while his eyes sparkled with intensity, already imagining the scene play inside his head

  “Professor Amanda is beautiful indeed. But if we don't pass the exams, she'll surely be a menace about it.” Oren chimed in, trying to remind his friend about the graveness of their situation, because he got so used to Alfred antics from the time they spent together.

  Yes, their teacher is beautiful, and she also has an enchanting yet elegant poise, but professor Amanda is also a stubbornly strict professor. She can sometimes be hard to deal with, a total pain in the neck. That's why no one dares to cross her road.

  Truly a fearsome woman.

  “Don't be such a joykiller. It's not like we ever failed.” Alfred countered, annoyed by Oren's overly thinking behavior.

  Can't his friend be a bit optimistic and smile for a while. All he could see is a punk covered in depressing clothes, always whining about this and that.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to the original site for the genuine story.

  “Hah? A joykiller?”

  Oren raised his eyebrows, Irritation strongly merged with his voice. He was now completely angry as his friend, of all people, got the face to say that to him?

  And as if he anticipated that, Alfred raised both hands and planted them on his ears, not letting even air find its way in.

  “Of course you're going to say that! Because you don't sweat your butt off on the chair to study! all you do is play all day long!” Oren exploded at his friend, “Just who comes begging for answers when exams start? Who always pushes his homework for me to do? Is it me? I grind my brain off just so you pass the test, you stinky maggot!”

  He raged, inhaling air in ragged breathing to ease his reddened face. Yet felt a bit relieved after his outburst, because he had vented some pent up pressure he was holding inside.

  Alfred lowered his hands and asked, unfazed, “finished?”

  Oren felt like he had heard this word many times before, laced with the same unimpressed tone… A vein instantly popped on his forehead.

  “Of course not!”

  They continued their walk, following the well built concrete path outside, having already passed through the huge back Gates of the university, before marching on the sidewalk.

  As usual, they were heading to the cybercafe nearby, a hub popular among anti‐socials.

  “So, what mode do we play?” Alfred asked along the way, though he already knew the answer.

  “Squad of course! And hey, don't just rush to loot when I am still fighting, wait for me to finish the kill, dude! And when…”

  Getting excited to have fun after he held himself the whole day, Oren locked eyes with his friend, and started blabbering nonstop.

  “Yes yes.” Alfred nodded.

  “I am being serious!”

  —Ring Ring!

  A phone rang.

  “Who is it?” Alfred turned to Oren, it was apparently not his own, and he also didn't have that kind of boring ringtone.

  Oren reached down his pocket and fetched for his phone, feeling the buzz vibrate in his legs. He looked and checked the caller ID, his eyes widening at the glaring bold “BOSS” hung on his screen.

  “Sh*t!” He cursed.

  Oren knew he had messed up. But before he could think of what to do, without knowing it, his finger had habitually pressed the green button, triggering a loud shout from the speakers.

  “You damn punk, where are you? don't you know what time is it?”

  It was so loud that Oren had to distance the phone from his ears.

  “Pfft.” Alfred suddenly coudn’t supress his laugh.

  But it was already too late, as the Boss over the phone heard it.

  Oren glared at Alfred, his black eyes redning.

  “You laughing you introverted idiot! Don't you have work to do?! I have waited the whole time for you but you're laughing over there?! You have 10 minutes to drag your as* here, or I'll have to settle things with you properly!!” His voice was so shaky that his anger transmitted from the speakers. Oren could already envision his boss spilling his mouth off with his big belly jiggling up and down.

  —Beep!

  Before Oren could even defend himself, the call was ended.

  Damn it. He had forgotten to notify his Boss about the added session on Saturday, now, Oren will have to listen to his rambling the whole week.

  “OK, see ya later buddy.”

  Oren quickly said goodbye to his friend and stopped a taxi, driving to his workplace.

  “...”

  Alfred stood there, eyeing the retreating figure of the taxi, and sighed.

  ***

  10 minutes later, Oren was already inside his workplace, as it wasn't far from the university.

  GreenWash, this was the car washing facility Oren worked in, managed by his fatty Boss.

  Standing outside manager office, Oren looked around and saw there are still many cars entering from the lane, attendants going about their work; the place was large to say the least.

  Oren opened the door, followed by walking directly to the manager's office, he was greeted loudly.

  “You finally arrived? Just when were you planning to come? WHEN?”

  Seated on the desk, a fat chubby man wearing a grey suit spat angrily, the fat on his face was flushed red from frustration, sweat tinkling down.

  “Sorry boss, it won't repeat.” Oren didn't even try to explain the situation, but played the good boy personna.

  He knew his boss far too well. What happened never mattered, nor did it matter if he would repeat it or not. It was all a show of power and he had to act submissive If he wanted it to end quickly.

  His Boss was kind of have an ego and exitance issues, making himself feel important by bullying his employees.

  It's not like Oren was afraid or anything, but that the 15 dollars an hour part-time job was fitting for him, as he didn't have to do anything demanding, just stand at the counter and record down logs or receive payment.

  No need for complicated work.

  Also, you can say that Oren had developed an ‘anti-provocation’ organ, so he can tolerate it.

  Consequently, during the boringly long half an hour that followed, Oren just stood on his spot listening to the outbrust of emotions, motionless.

  At that moment, the Boss coughed, and feeling his troat start to hurt, he huffed a warning before striding out of the office, leaving Oren to return to his post.

  As Oren walked behind the counter, he didn't find the other person who should be working before him, so he just sat down and started to check the logs.

  “The guy probably couldn't endure it and got fired,”

  ***

  Evening.

  “I think this will do.”

  —Ding!

  Oren looked down, checking the content inside the bag before nodding to himself, the glass doors of a store closed behind him.

  After 4 hours of continues work, he got to leave at last. But along the way back home, Oren remmebred to buy something to cook for the oldman, before deciding to stop by the small store next street.

  He put the change inside his pocket, then started walking down the street, which seems to be empty today.

  —Ring! RING!

  His phone rang again, and it was the second time already. Which was rare, as Oren only has dozen contacts.

  He pulled his phone from his left pocket and checked, seeing that it was Alfred who was calling, he put the phone on his ears while resuming his march.

  “What is it?” he asked directly.

  “Nothing much, well, I called to invite you home for dinner, mom said she will prepare the usual. How's that? Are you up for it?” Alfred informed, his tone on the phone sounded strangely eager.

  “...”

  Alfred waited but he didn't hear anything even after a few long seconds.

  “Well, hello? Oren? Buddy? Are you there?!”

  But Oren stood motionlessly on the road, his neck craned to look at the alley before him, and his eyes bulging out as if he saw a ghost.

  He was frozen at the sight before him, something never in his life dared to expect he would see.

  —Bang!

  Suddenly, a gunshot was heard, reverberating across the length of the street.

  But Oren didn't care about that, as he felt a stinging pain down his chest, a foreboding feeling bubbling up inside.

  He mustered the strength to lower his head, then looked over to see why he felt like a shell penetrated by something sharp and small.

  On his chest, precisely the heart location, there was red liquid painting a huge chunk of the black hoodie, meat pieces could be seen merged with the ripped cloth.

  H, He was shot? Just what happened??

  Oren freaked out.