It wasn’t even an hour later, when Emilio was awoken by the sound of the front door opening. He had locked the door and it wasn’t a forceful entry, so it could’ve only been one person. The only other person with a key.

  “Eh, Emilio, are you asleep in the Office again?” A woman’s voice called, her accent was that of someone born in the countryside.

  Emilio kept his eyes closed, as if to pretend to be asleep.

  “Would it kill you to wipe your feet when you come in here? There’s water everywhere.” The woman walked further in, tossing her stuff aside. Noticing that Emilio was still pretending to be asleep, she did the one thing that could possibly get him up that didn’t cause permanent harm; with a jumping motion, she sat down on his stomach, causing him to sputter and sit up as best as he could. “That got you up!” She grinned, looking down at her boss. She was surprisingly heavy, her weight was crushing down on his abdominal.

  “Hello to you too, Heidi.” Emilio coughed, vigor restored and all it took was some bumpkin sitting down on his stomach.

  She was an interesting woman. Short black hair, styled in a faux hawk. Just like Emilio, she too had her share of scars, but in a significantly different way; both arms, both legs, as well as her right eye, were replaced with cybernetic prosthetics. The prosthetic that replaced her right eye resembled an eyepatch; while looking like an eyepatch, she could see from it perfectly fine. These replacements, however, other than the one replacing her eye, weren’t quite high quality but weren’t quite cheap either. The ones replacing her limbs resembled those of a skeleton than than flesh. At her hip was a katana, with a tassel hanging from the pommel, resembling a blue flower. Just like Emilio, she wore the black high collared jacket that signified her as a member of Runaway Office.

  “Get any work done?” He said, trying to shake her off of him, but she wasn’t budging. Was his torso comfier than the couch.

  “Had to get my hands a bit dirty. Some fresh off the street Syndicate goons were looking to make a name for themselves by claiming a random boarding house as their turf. The lot of them gave me shit for being a Grade 9, but they didn’t have any room to talk; I don’t think they weren’t even designated as Urban Myth, didn’t even have a cool name or anything. Probably some ex-Nest dwellers who didn’t even comprehend the dynamics of the Backstreets…” Then she remembered the more important thing to report than the status of the people she cut down. “Ah right, none of the residents of the house got killed, only a few cuts and sprains here and there, but nothing serious. So that’s a new precedent, you can say.”

  “So in other words, you killed a bunch of riches to rags punks who just wanted to make a name for themselves? They remind me of someone…”

  “Hey, it was either that or they go after someone even bigger, someone who would be crueler and more vengeful. Did you hear about that person in District 25 who killed someone who was close to The Middle? The person they killed wasn’t even a member, just a friend of a friend, and even then the Middle wiped out the whole neighborhood.”

  “That’s just how the Middle operates. But, yeah I’m not as knowledgeable about the Fingers and Syndicates as you are. My knowledge is in the Associations… Now could you get off of me, please?” He asked, giving her a nudge on the rear.

  “Fine,” she got up, “But no more sleeping in the Office. Also take your trunk with you.” She nudged the steamer trunk that held all of Emilio’s clothes.

  “Alright, mom.” he said with a sarcastic tone, as he sat up himself, picking up the trunk and hoisting it over his shoulder. Despite having only met a few weeks ago, the two were rather close. Close enough that they were willing to share an apartment and bicker with one another as friends. Although they were vaguely aware of the other’s past, they didn’t know the full story, but that was the best for now; emotional baggage and past trauma is like the high shelf booze that you only open on special occasions, when the time is right or don’t open at all. The one thing that linked the two of them together, that they knew for sure, was the thing that Emilio set forth as Runaway Office’s banner; an Office for people who want to leave their past behind and start over from the beginning.

  Speaking of booze though. Emilio sniffed the air and looked over to Heidi who had cracked open one of the beer cans on the Office desk. “Can’t even wait til we get home.”

  The woman chuckled, taking a sip of her drink, enjoying the silky smooth taste; it was cheap stuff, but she didn’t care. “What? It’s a minute walk. Now come on, I’m looking to clock out for the day. A nice shower and some more booze is waiting for me.”

  “Same. I’ve been rained on all day, hopefully the apartment still had hot water. Why do you get the exciting job and get to fight and I’m the guy who’s on grocery duty?” He said, heading out the door, waiting for Heidi.

  “Because the Operator has to humble himself,” she said. The way the two bickered back and forth, it was easy to forget that Emilio was her boss. “His underlings should be the ones getting their hands dirty.”

  “Yeah yeah,” He shrugged, walking right, to the apartment right next door. Didn’t even have a name for a place. Their room was on the third floor. The place was thankfully cleaner than the place he delivered to just moments ago. People there at least had an idea of basic cleanliness and the brains to hire people with a skill for that cleanliness. Walking up to the man at the front desk, the two of them gave him a wave.

  “Eh, Emilio, Heidi,” the desk man said, his name tag reading Ivan, looking up from his comic book. He was a portly man with a pair of round glasses. No combat prowess, he required the skills of people like Heidi and Emilio to not get jumped in his day to day life. “Heading home already? The day is still young.”

  “Yeah,” Emilio said, “We’re paid by commission, not the hour, and there aren’t any contracts at the moment.”

  “If someone needs us within the next few hours, they know where to find us.” Heidi laughed, “People who live in the same apartment block get a discount.”

  Emilio could be heard mumbling something about how that is totally not the case but he wasn’t going to ruin the moment.

  “Good to hear,” the Ivan said, “You guys are doing a good job, from what I hear, you’ll be rising through the ranks in no time.” He was a friendly man, a bit dim witted, but friendly. Emilio was sure that Ivan only got the job because his dad owned the block, but at the same time he couldn’t complain; Ivan was good enough at managing the place.

  If you discover this tale on Amazon, be aware that it has been unlawfully taken from Royal Road. Please report it.

  “Yeah, when I become a Color Fixer, I’ll shout you out in interviews.” He scratched his facial stubble. “I’ll be… The Orange Cleaver.”

  “I’ll just settle for being a Grade 1 at the end of the road.” Heidi said, “But I’ll still shout you out when that happens.”

  “Uh huh,” Ivan nodded happily, smiling wide. How could anyone be that happy manning the front desk of an apartment in the Backstreets? “Oh yeah, by the way… Do you guys think you could do something about the guy a few doors down from you? He’s been a bit rude to other guests. Plus he’s rude to me.”

  “Salvo, you mean?” Emilio rubbed the back of his head. “I don’t know. He’s a Grade 7 Fixer. So he’s above me on the social ladder.”

  “Plus, it’s not like we can go rough someone up just because they’re being rude.” Heidi explained further. “Otherwise we’d end up having to slaughter the whole city block and then some. If he kills someone, hurts someone physically, or breaks something, then we can see what we can do, but for now we can’t really do anything.”

  “Alright…” Ivan nodded, clearly disappointed. “Thanks anyways.” He said, waving the two away and going back to his comic book.

  The pair went for the elevator, Heidi depositing her beer can in a nearby trash can. The elevator upstairs creaked, always sounding like it was 1 pound of extra weight away from free falling. The doors didn’t even close all the way. Were their enhancements enough to survive a falling elevator? They hoped they didn’t have to test that out.

  “I heard that guy’s family use to live in a Nest.” Heidi said.

  “Ivan? Didn’t know that. Which Nest? W Corp?”

  “Yeah… He’s a cannibal, you know? Saw him and his dad going to that sandwich place that serves human flesh… The one a couple blocks down. The Musicians of Bremen once sponsored that place before their leader disappeared.”

  “Maybe he doesn’t know that they serve human flesh. Besides, cannibals in W Corp’s Backstreets are as common as flies on a carcass.”

  A pause well over the two as the elevator door opened to the third floor, the two of them stepped out. “Have you ever eaten human flesh?” Heidi said, breaking the momentary silence.

  “Me? No. Don’t plan on eating it either. That’s why I always buy chicken when we go out and get meat. Because I never know if that ‘pork’ or ‘beef’ is actually human. What about you, have you ever eaten flesh.” He said, looking to her.

  “Uh…” Heidi hummed. Looked like she was on the nervous side.

  “Heidi?” He said, furrowing his brow. “I’m not gonna judge. You can tell your boss.”

  “Well, I don’t eat it. But I have ate it… Past tense, I’ve had it once.” She said, “You already know where I came from, you can probably guess how I ended up eating it…” She said. It was so rare to see her so quiet and bashful. A great contrast to her usual loud and brash personality. It was kinda cute but Emilio knew that he shouldn’t get use to it.

  “Ah right…” Emilio nodded, choosing not to go further into the subject; he wanted to keep his appetite when he had food waiting for him back home. There, across the hall, they saw him. A large, pot bellied man dressed in a pair of jeans and a long jacket, with a large ax sheathed on his back. Salvo, the man they were just talking about earlier. A Grade 7 Fixer with a great deal of experience below his belt and a good example of why you shouldn’t expect all Fixers to be the same easy going and amicable type. Looks like he was banging on the door of one of the residents, harassing them because of some minor faux pas. The room he was harassing happened to be the room that the two lived across from.

  “Come out, roach! I’m sick of you dirtying up this place! Your smell is leaking down the hall and I can’t take it anymore!” Heidi and Emilio just stood there, waiting for Salvo to expend his energy… Then finally, the man looked over to them. A wry grin on his face; looks like his Office didn’t provide any dental insurance if his teeth were anything to go by. “Ah, you two.” Salvo looked to them mockingly, “How does that rising to the top thing going?”

  “I don’t know, how is it going for you?” Emilio asked.

  “Funny…” Salvo chuckled, “Just stay out of my way.” He said, walking off, down to his apartment, not wanting to stay here any longer. He might cause problems down the line, but at least he got his frustration out for the day.

  Once he was gone and out of hearing distance… “What is his problem exactly?” Heidi asked, crossing her arms.

  “He lost a bunch of his Office to a Distortion.” Emilio said, taking a pause before speaking to make sure that the man was no longer in ear shot. He then turned his attention to the door that the man was banging on; numerous gashes and acts of vandalism were on the door, meaning this wasn’t a one time occurance. “He’s gone, don’t worry.”

  After a short bit of time, a face peaked out from the door. A chitinous face, more like the head of a cockroach than the head of a human. The face looked around for a bit, before immediately shutting the door without a word.

  “Thank you?” Heidi said, as Emilio opened the door to their apartment. She looked to him, asking, “What’s his issue?”

  “That guy? Don’t even know his name, but he… Uh… Was a soldier of G Corp back in the Smoke War. A pretty high ranking one too if his appearance is anything to go by. Despite everything, he’s one of the lucky ones, seeing as he has a place to live, as shitty as it is.” He said, opening the door. “I feel sorry for him, but he never leaves his place and I’ve only seen him twice before. So I can’t say that I am close to him.”

  “Right.” She said, walking in beside Emilio. “Were you in the Smoke War?”

  “Me? Nope, but I have heard the horror stories.” He shut the door behind him, placing the steamer trunk on the floor besides the door. “I was living in District 22 at the time. You probably know why I left.”

  The room was what you would expect from a dingy, run down apartment. It was just a bit more homely than the office. A couch and old TV in main room, a door to the left that lead to their shared bedroom, and the door directly to the right of the entrance was the bathroom. If they were lucky, then the place would have hot water.

  Heidi, not even buzzed from her beer, went to the tiny fridge that was stocked with beer and microwavable meals. “Man, my muscles are sore. You never realize how sore you are until you really can rest.”

  “Got that right,” he said, crashing on the couch, ending this few minute trip in the same position he started. Time to fall asleep ind wake up to do the same thing tomorrow. Such was life in the Backstreets. He held his hand out in front of him, prompting Heidi to place a beer in his hand that he quickly cracked open. “Orange Cleaver… On second thought, that’s a dumb name. I’ll have to write down idea for names when I become a Color Fixer.” He wasn’t even so sure he would become one. The number of Color Fixers who started from rags to riches could be counted on one hand, maybe two if you really stretched the definition of rags to riches.

  Pushing Emilio’s legs aside and sitting down on the couch as well, Heidi turned on the TV, not even caring what was on. The two of them had only met just a few weeks ago, but through the shared banner of the Office, they were thick and thin. They weren’t about to leave the other one, no matter how many times people said it was a bad idea to grow super close in the City. “Want to open up applications to join the Office tomorrow? One man Offices are common, but no one has ever heard of a two person Office? Think we can get by with three people.”

  “Sure,” Emilio said, currently in thought. “Three people… Sounds like a plan for the short term future. Then more after that? Maybe wait a bit before we make a name for ourselves?”

  “You’re the boss, you make the decisions. You know me, I’m all about having things decided for myself,” she laughed, sipping on her freshly opened beer.

  “Yeah…” He said, looking outside, watching the sun set. “Maybe put out ads, ‘Join Runaway Office, Runaway from your trauma.’ or something cheesy like that.” He laughed, picturing them handing out fliers and stuff, all while fighting off thugs and Syndicate members.

  “Whatever gets people in on it.” Heidi nodded.

  ‘Runaway from your trauma…’ maybe that was a bit too on the nose… Hell, sometimes the cheesy things are some of the best. Little bit of levity can go a long way here.