Chapter one
First of all, I would like to apologize. Apologize to you, the reader, for choosing to read this story. It may strike you as odd, that the one writing the story would think that way, but it really is how I feel. This was written more for necessity than anything, not even profit. A “recording of events,” if you will…. Yes, I like the sound of that. Now, if you still feel the need to read this, I suppose it is time for me to begin to record- record the events. The events that changed the lives of a group of men forever…
It was a bright, sunny day. Sunlight was streaming through the windows of the small café by the name of Groundswell, onto a long table. Upon the table sat seven glasses, each belonging to one of the people sitting at the table. A hand reached out, picking up one of the glasses, and bringing it to the mouth of the man whom the hand belonged to. The lips touched the rim, the drink was brought ever closer to its mark, until finally, they reached each other, the lips and the drink, and the drink slowly disappeared into the mouth, past the lips, teeth, and across the tongue. The deed done, the hand put the glass back to its resting place upon the table.
The man who had just taken a drink of water was a bald man, sitting at the head of the table. And I don’t mean your everyday, a-little-hair-upon-the-head kind of deal. I mean, he was completely hairless. At least, those were the rumours. No one had truly seen the man closely enough, or naked enough, to be able to tell if the rumours were true, but no one doubted them. This man is Lou. He’s the boss. Not your typical boss, either. But we’ll get to that later.
One of the men seemed to always be checking his watch, tapping his right foot on the floor and his fingers of the left hand on the table, in an impatient manner. He was a fairly forgettable man, unremarkable in any way. He had plain brown hair, cut in a plain fashion, with plain brown eyes, and a plain suit. His face was rather plain as well, nothing on it to make him stand out. This man is Mr. Red.
Two of the men at the table seemed to be deep in discussion, the only ones speaking out of the group. The man closer to the western-most side of the table was perhaps in his thirties, and rather bland looking- much like Mr. Red- however, his face was home to great scar, running from his left temple to his chin. He was the one taking the conversation least seriously of the two. This man is Mr. White.
The other man participating in the conversation had blonde hair, though it was rather dirty looking. Whether this is because he had been rolling in the dirt outside, or it was naturally like that, well, no one was completely sure. He was probably the most notable man at the table, because of his light hair, blue eyes, and “pretty” features. This man is Mr. Orange.
Only two of the men at the table were drinking beverages other than water, surprisingly enough. One of the men was drinking a mocha latte. He had icy blue eyes, piercingly blue, and black hair. Those were his only features that made him stand out, however. It is told that he has many scars, all over his body, but his face was completely clear of any injuries. He had a fierce face, however, and not one you’d like to mess with. This man is Mr. Blue.
The other man drinking a different beverage had gray eyes, brown hair, and a face that could either be thought of as extremely handsome, or very, very ugly. Many of his peers thought the latter. He was a man whose face one wouldn’t soon forget, for whatever reason. He was drinking green tea, and this man is Mr. Yellow.
The last glass at the table was half empty, and it belonged to the most intimidating man at the table, excluding Mr. Blue. He was taller, towering above the lot of them. He had a great, brown moustache that covered his mouth completely, so you couldn’t tell whether he was smiling or frowning. He had rather expressionless eyes, as well, making him all the more intimidating. This man is Mr. Brown.
Now, Mr. Red was beginning to get impatient, as the group could tell. Finally, Mr. Red stood up, and yelled something along the lines of, “Where is he?!” It was at this point, of course, that I showed up.
I walked into the café, only getting second glances from those who were not regulars, and strolled over to the long table on which the seven glasses sat. Lou stood up, stretching his arms wide. “Pink, m’boy, where’ve you been? We’ve been waiting, you know.”
Ah, yes. There it was. My name. Now, someone should say, ‘This narrating man is Mr. Pink.’ Not something I’m particularly happy about, however, we don’t choose our names. If anyone does, it’s Lou. And no one dares go against the word of Lou. So I smiled at him, and showed him my right arm. “I was caught up in a little…. scrap,” I told him then. There were small gasps around the café; however, no one at the table seemed to be the littlest bit shocked at the sight of my arm. And a sight it was, I assure you.
A blade was protruding from the skin, and blood was encrusted all around the injury. However, compared to what we’ve been through, it was a rather minor injury. “Excuse the blade, gentlemen, I would’ve pulled it out, but that would have been wasted time. I didn’t want to be late for our little meeting… I suppose there was no reason for me to worry.”
Mr. Red proceeded to glare at me, but Lou just chuckled. “Ah, it’s no problem, m’boy. If you hadn’t been late, it would have been another of these goons here,” and here was where he let out a hearty laughed, in which we joined in. All of us. “Come, now, Pink, take a seat. I’m sure that scratch can wait, hm?”
I nodded, and took my seat at the table. Soon, another glass was added to the table, to match how many sat there. And we proceeded our talks, as usual. It was something we did every week to month. All eight of us, including Lou, talking about the law… and how to avoid it. Not like it was hard. Not for us. A group of hardened criminals… Gangsters, if you will.
And so is our little group. The little group of men whose lives are changed forever. I’m going to take it you weren’t expecting gangsters, and now I give you a chance to leave. Quit reading. Do it now. Not only for your sake, but for your family’s sake, as well. Who knows how dangerous this information could be…?
