Rick Lawrence.

One of the boroughs of London. Rick, 13 years old.

Passers-by were rushing about their business, not paying attention to each other. The cool London wind pierced no worse than the Siberian frosts if you were not dressed for the weather. The yellow leaves were spinning in their dance, tossed up and down by the wind, as the last sign of the past summer and the approaching winter. The gray sky, pressing the city with its clouds, foreshadowed the imminent first snow.

The boy raised the collar of his light coat, pulled on a cap and wrapped a wide warm scarf around his neck. This scarf was the only thing that at least slightly but warmed him. Shoes had long been worn out and got wet during the rain in seconds, but it was still better than walking barefoot.

He noticed a stylishly dressed man with a side vision. He was coming out of the doors of a five-star hotel. The boy suggested that the man could be a businessman, which means that he had a chance to try his luck.

"Fresh press! Latest stock and business market news! Interviews with Leading Entrepreneurs in London and New York in the New Limited Edition of British Finance! Only today! The last five copies!"

Rick was spinning around the entrance to an expensive hotel, trying to sell the newspaper, which had only recently appeared in print and had not yet won the attention of the audience. On the one hand, this was a minus, since not everyone agreed to invest in an unknown newspaper, which could turn out to be the next edition of the yellow press.

On the other hand, the selling price for one copy was much lower than the average market price, and he boldly added two hundred percent on top, making a profit when selling ten copies equivalent to selling one hundred copies of The Times.

And most importantly, the owner of the publishing company handed him ten copies a day without any payment, and the boy did not lose anything, even if he had not sold a single newspaper.

Fortunately for him, he had excellent marketing skills, and on good days he could sell up to thirty copies. He had enough money to buy food for a week. At least if he bought it for himself only.

"Sir, you look like a successful and influential person! Would you like to find out insider information about where it would be best to invest your capital in order to maximize your profit?" Rick called out to the hotel guest when he was about to get in a cab.

"Boy, I respect your perseverance, this is a good skill, but it's better to go to study than to hang around like this. It is unlikely that in this newspaper, of incomprehensible quality, I will find something useful for myself," the man answered dryly and turned away.

'Going to study? Hang around on the street? If it weren't for this hanging around on the street, I wouldn't even have anything, not to mention studying,' Rick thought to himself but swallowed his irritation and resentment. The evening was approaching, and he still had five more newspapers in his hands that he needed to sell, since by the morning this number would already be nothing but a waste paper.

"Sir, I can assure you that everything is all right with my studies. I just help my father in his publishing business," the boy showed his most charming smile, and the man could not help but say to himself that this teenager was very attractive. He could easily go to work in the modeling business instead of standing here on the street.

Rick noticed that the man was staring at him intently and decided to seize the moment and capture his attention even more. The boy approached the man and leaned over, as if about to share a secret, "I work here five days a week from morning to evening and have heard a lot of conversations, including confidential ones. So my information is more than relevant, if you buy five copies of this newspaper, I will share it with you for free," he finished his offer and winked.

The man signaled the taxi driver to wait, slammed the door and turned to Rick. There was a satisfied smile on the businessman's face, "Well, boy, I will give you my due, you earned my attention. Let's check what information you are willing to sell to me. How much will be for 5 copies?"

"25 pounds, sir," Rick answered confidently, although the announced price was simply sky-high for an unknown newspaper.

"How much? 25 pounds? But this is robbery! Kid, admit how much did you add on?" The man was indignant, but in his voice, there was not a hint of irritation.

Rick took it as a good sign and decided to answer as it is, "Two hundred percent, sir. And I also made a discount for you, usually, I take twenty percent more."

"Ahaha, I see. Well, business is business. I accepted the terms of your deal, so there, here's your money," the man handed 25 pounds to Rick, and the boy handed him a stack of newspapers. "Well, and what kind of secret investment advice would you give me?"

The boy put his hands in his pockets, pretended to look important and replied proudly, "I'm sure you know that now many people are actively investing in companies developing cell phones that will soon completely replace pagers, so this is not a new idea. I advise you to invest in a more traditional business, which only narrow specialists pay attention to."

"Hmm, and what kind of business are you talking about?" The man raised his eyebrows, showing genuine interest. He liked the way this boy arranged his self-presentation and how confidently he was comporting himself, despite his worn clothes and down-at-heel shoes.

Rick paused, looked around to give more importance to his information, and whispered, "Pharmacology."

"Pharmacology?" The man widened his eyes; he clearly did not expect such an option.

"Yes, pharmacology, sir. Do you know Greenline Inc.?" Rick asked, to which the man nodded affirmatively, "So, they are now developing a new line of products related to health restoration, and plan to launch it next year. Even the advertising company is already in the final stages of development, but this is confidential information. So, if you now buy at least a couple of dozen of their shares, then in the next five to ten years you will become incredibly rich. I cross my heart!"

"And how do you know about this? If this is such a good investment, why don't you buy a couple of shares yourself, instead of hanging around on the street?"

"Sir, as I said, there are a lot of people walking here in a day, and I can listen and analyze information well. As for the purchase of stocks, I would love to, but I don't have that much money," Rick answered and smiled shyly. Buying a stock that cost one and a half thousand pounds was beyond reality for him. For some reason, he liked this unknown man; he created the impression of a strong, but fair man. He was so unlike his own father.

The businessman raised his hand and carefully patted Rick on the head, "Well done, although this information was not new to me, I am glad that you shared it with me. What is your name and how old are you?"

"Um, Rick Lawrence, I'm 13 years old, sir. But why?"

The man smiled, "I have a son who is also 13 years old. If you meet, then I'm sure that you will make friends. He is something like you, just as serious at 13 years old and just as smart."

The businessman took a business card from his pocket and handed it to Rick, "I have to go, here is my contact number. If you want to work with us, call and I will find you something. I will not promise a large salary since you are not yet an adult and must study, but if you are interested, you can be in a research group with my sons. Our company supports young talents and promotes their development in every possible way, including training grants." He patted the boy on the shoulder, got into a taxi and drove off.

"A grant for training?" Rick did not believe his ears, he could not even dream of such a thing. The boy turned the business card over and gasped. Next to the company's logo, a name and contact number were written in black and white,

[William Anderson. CEO, Greenline Inc.]

"Damn me!" shouted the boy. He had just sold confidential information about the firm's plans to its own head for 25 pounds!

Rick covered his face with his hands, not believing that such coincidences can happen in the world. A little hope that a faint ray of sunshine came into his hopelessly gray life, warmed his heart for a moment until the cold autumn rain fell on the guy with all its strength.

Ice drops with a sharp wind, like small needles, hit his skin, burning his face, which he was trying to cover with a scarf. The rain was so strong that his shoes got wet when he did not manage to run even two blocks, so when he reached home after ten minutes of running, the boy soaked to the bone.

But this was not the most unpleasant thing that could have waited for him. Stopping in front of the front door, he looked at the windows of the house, the light was on only in one of them, but that was enough to make Rick's mood drop to zero.

"Damn," the boy cursed and tried to open the door as quietly as possible. He slipped inside like a mouse, took off his wet coat, shoes and wanted to head to his room as a fat man came out of the room and stared at the guy.

The man was wearing a dirty T-shirt and pants stretched out on his knees, his eyes were defocused, and his movements were clumsy. The smell in the apartment served as an excellent indicator of his condition - the man was drunk.

"Where the hell have you been hanging around all this time?! How long should I wait for you, huh?! My drink ended at lunchtime! And in the fridge, the mouse hanged itself! What do you think I should have eaten all day?!" the man cursed, not embarrassed by swear words.

"If you were hungry, you would get up and cook something for yourself," Rick muttered and went forward. But before he could take two steps, the man turned around, and his heavy hand hit the guy in the face with such force that Rick flew away a few steps, coins from his pockets scattered across the floor.

"How dare you talk to your father in that tone?! Are you looking for death?!" Mr. Lawrence exploded, his eyes were looking with hatred at his own child, "And also decided to hide the money?! Give everything back here! Now!"

"Just choke on it!" The boy shouted in response, got up from the floor and threw the last coins which he still had in his pockets in his father's face. Then he turned and went to his room.

He knew well that this person would not bother him until the morning, because as soon as the rain stopped, he would go to a nearby pub to drink the money that Rick had been earning for three days.

The boy opened the door of the room and felt the floor go from under his feet. The whole room was turned upside down, things were scattered every which way, even the drawers of the cabinets were empty, and their contents were lying on the floor.

"Oh no, not that," Rick whispered and rushed to his stuff. But everything was in vain, the secret places where he hid his slender savings were empty as if nothing was there. But what made his heart contract with pain and resentment were books torn to shreds, some of which he did not even have time to read.

The boy brushed away the tears that came out of his eyes, straightened up and walked quickly to the living room, where his father was sitting on the sofa with another bottle of beer in his hands. And he also claimed that he had run out of booze?!

"Where is my money?! Who gave you the right to rummage around in my room?!" Rick shouted, but the man did not even raise an eyebrow.

"I am your father, and this house belongs to me, like everything else that is here."

"Do you even know that I have nothing to wear for school?! I have been collecting this money for three months to buy shoes and clothes for the winter! And the books! I took them in the library and I have to return them at the end of the month, do you have any clue how much they cost?! Where will I get the money to pay for them?!"

Rick felt desperate. That little hope for the best that appeared after meeting with that businessman shattered into pieces when he again faced with his harsh reality.

Parents who drank more alcohol than water, which eventually led to the fact that his mother died several years ago from an alcoholic coma. But unlike her father, she at least sometimes cooked food, and after her death, the boy was left to himself. From the age of ten, he himself earned his own food, clothes, and things for school. He knew that in this world no one would take care of him except himself.

"Instead of school, go and get a job on a construction site. And then you will receive more than from your stupid newspaper. I am your parent, and one doesn't choose parents. It's your duty to take care of me, you got it?!" the man tapped his fist on the coffee table next to the sofa. Empty bottles swayed and rumbled off the table and rolled across the floor.

"My duty?! And then what is your duty as a parent to me, eh? What did I do in this life that you are treating like that?!"

The man idly brought a bottle of beer to his lips and took a sip. His son's eyes, looking at him with pain and resentment, didn't cause any feelings in Mr. Lawrence, after all, this child was simply an unplanned mistake, and if he had already broken the man's life plans by his birth, then let him be responsible for that.

"I saw here on TV today, hic, that there is such a law ... what was it, hic, oh! The law of karma! So, I am your karma! Looks like you did a lot of shit in your past life since you got such parents in this one. Hic, you still have to thank me that I help you repay your sins, ahahaha!" Rick's father laughed out loud, he liked this theory, it fit into their situation perfectly and relieved him of all responsibility for his son.

"Ha, the law of karma?! You mean it's all my fault?!" Rick didn't understand why, but his father's remark made a sharp pain in the boy's heart. He was already accustomed to insults and humiliations against him and expected from this man neither understanding, nor support, nor even parental love. But the idea that this person sincerely believed that with his behavior he rendered his son the service of cleansing past sins was the most hypocritical thing he had heard from him.

"Go to hell," Rick whispered through his teeth, took a sweater in his room, old holey sneakers, wrapped a scarf around his neck that was still a little wet from the rain, and left the house, slamming the door.

The sun had long since set, the rain stopped, and the city plunged into night darkness. Here and there the last drops were falling from the roofs; the air was filled with dampness and coolness.

The boy exhaled еру air slowly; light puffs of steam enveloped his face and climbed up. "Damn, it'll probably be frost at night," Rick sighed, he hadn't had time to buy winter shoes, now he'll have to save at least another month before he gets the required amount. He suddenly remembered the business card that he received tonight, but after looking in his trouser pockets, he realized that it was left at home in his coat.

Rick crossed his arms over his chest and rubbed himself over his shoulders, it turned out to be much colder outside than he had expected, but he did not want to return home. The boy wandered through the dark streets, which he knew as a palm of his hand, and he knew well where to find a warm place to spend the night and, if he's lucky, get some free food.

"What the?! Agggh!" Rick grabbed his knee and checked how hard he hit it, "What the hell are you doing?! That's the place to sit, and even at such a time!"

When he turned the corner, he did not notice a little girl sitting on the ground, who was the reason why he fell and was now laying on the asphalt next to her.

"Now I'm all dirty because of you! Who will let me inside like that now, eh?" The boy got up and shook his clothes, "Where is your mother, huh?! You should be at home, and not sit on the street in a dark gateway at night like that! What do parents teach you at all?!"

The girl flinched, raised her head and looked Rick in the face, after which she sobbed, and a children's loud cry filled the surroundings.

"Waaaah!!! Mamaaaa!!!"

The boy was confused, he did not expect such an emotional reaction from the little girl, "Hey, hey! Be quiet! Take it easy! If you cry so loudly, then big bad men will find us and then we definitely will be in serious trouble!"

Rick tried to calm the child down as best he could, this part of the district was a popular place for night hangouts of local hooligans, and it was not part of his plans to run into them this evening. The last phrase had the desired effect and the girl immediately became silent, and from the cry, she switched to quiet sobs.

Rick sat beside her and looked at the girl. She looked no more than seven years old, her clothes and shoes were stained, but by the quality of the fabric and appearance, it was noticeable that these were not cheap things. Even the hat on the girl's head was the same as he had seen on other children that sometimes went out from the hotel with their mothers for a walk. From the hotel, next to which he was selling newspapers.

It is unlikely that such a child would be allowed to walk alone at night, two options surfaced in Rick's head - either she ran away or was lost.

"Listen, it's already cold and dark. You need to go home," he said in a quiet voice, he didn't want to scare her even more, as the baby girl cringed with fear as soon as he crouched next to her. Rick scratched his head, he did not know how to communicate with little children.

"What's your name? My name is Rick," he held out his hand to the girl, but she did not even raise her head. 'Damn, and then what? I can't sit here forever with her, but can't leave her like that either,' the boy sighed to himself, one thought crossed his mind, he wondered whether it would be a wise idea to share it or not, but decided that it was better than sitting in the silence.

"If you want, you can call me Riri, as my grandmother called me in childhood," the boy smiled, his hand was still extended towards the girl. In fact, this was how his neighbor's grandmother called him, she was very old but incredibly kind. Perhaps she was the only person in Rick's life from whom he had ever received sincere warmth and love. And the scarf that was on his neck was also once knitted by her, and that was the only thing he treasured.

The girl raised her head and looked at Rick, her blue eyes expressed doubt and interest, "Riri? Some girlish name," she muttered and pouted. For some reason, it seemed to her that this grown-up boy decided to make fun of her when she was already on the verge of despair.

"Ahaha, it seems to me that way too," Rick laughed out loud, and his smile and laughter provoked a similar reaction in the little girl. She straightened up and also laughed, "Haha, Riri, you are so big, and you have a girly nickname!"

"Oh, so what, maybe your nickname is even weirder than mine," Rick spread his hands and winked slyly.

"Not true! I don't have any nickname at all, you got it?!" the girl boiled over.

"Ok, do you even have a name?" Rick asked, now he was sure that he would get an answer to his question.

"Y-yeah," the girl replied and shook Rick's outstretched hand in response, "My name is Corey. Corey Williams."

"Corey? Hmm, beautiful name," he squeezed her small and cold hand, the boy did not expect it to be so fragile, "Rick Lawrence. Nice to meet you."