You're The Plumber? (1)

"Old Roger is here."

Immediately, an old man who looked like a poor postman entered the room. "Yo, what's the deal, you two? Can't get along as father and son for a minute?"

Benjamin remained silent while Schneider turned to the man. "Old Roger, you're here?"

"Of course, you blind?" Old Roger mocked, then handed a letter to Schneider. "You know that dive you're supposed to be managing? Well, there's a letter from one of the rooms... and they're not afraid to speak their mind."

Schneider glanced at it briefly before passing it back. "Just hand it over to Benjamin. I'm outta here." With that, he walked into another room, likely his own.

"Even better. Here, Benji." Old Roger said, tucking the letter into Benjamin's hand before turning and walking out of the house.

Benjamin, fuming, threw the letter on the ground angrily. "I'm not budging. I'm staying right here!" he shouted.

But as he turned to walk away, something caught his eye. He glanced back at the letter, noticing the last name signed underneath: 'Tommy Jones.'

His heart skipped a beat, and he picked up the letter. A smile tugged at his lips unconsciously. "Or I'd just do a 180 and change my mind. No big deal."

…..

Benjamin put on brown pants and a cream-colored shirt, tucking it in. One thing about his family, especially his father, was that they would never leave the house without dressing like decent men.

He laced up a pair of nice shoes, donned a hat, and grabbed the letter.

The shirt was loose and flappy, with the ends of its long sleeves left unbuttoned. His pants had a black rubber belt hugging his waist.

As he adjusted his hat, he realized he resembled Jack from *Titanic*—only this himself, he was so pale that one might hesitate to let him step into the sun.

He looked every bit the wealthy young man he was, despite the casual disheveled elegance.

Benjamin took a deep breath, preparing himself for what lay ahead, and stepped out of the house.

He didn't know why he cared right now, but he wanted to look good.

Perhaps it was for... Tommy? No, that couldn't be it. Maybe he just wanted to show off to Tommy, right? Yeah, that should be it!

It was a cool evening, so he decided to walk all the way.

As he strolled through the streets, he noticed the admiring glances from the ladies around him.

Older women gave him lingering looks, their eyes following his every move, while younger ones giggled and whispered among themselves as he passed by.

An elegant woman in her forties approached him with a smile. "Good evening, young fella," she said, her eyes sparkling.

Benjamin gave her a charming smile. "Good evening, ma'am. You're lookin' lovely I must confess," he replied, his voice smooth and polite.

Further down the street, a group of teenage girls burst into giggles as he walked by.

One of them, bolder than the rest, called out, "well, well, well. Look what we've got here! What's your name, sugar?"

Benjamin gave them a blank look, his expression indifferent.

Buncha kids!

"Not your cup of tea," he said flatly, continuing on his way without another glance.

A woman in her thirties, dressed in a chic outfit, sidled up to him. "Your a new face here, ain't ya," she said, batting her eyelashes.

Benjamin smirked and gave her a once-over. "Maybe I am," he said, his tone flirtatious. "What's it to you?"

She laughed, clearly enjoying the attention. "Just askin', ya know," she replied, her voice dripping with charm.

He nodded, giving her a playful wink before moving on.

Another woman, this one in her fifties, reached out to touch his arm.

"You're a real throwback kiddo- you remind me of someone I knew way back then," she said, her voice soft and wistful and then she winked at him.

Benjamin gently removed her hand.

"I bet he was a fantastic, groovy man," he said with a polite smile, then continued walking, his mind already drifting back to his destination.

Each interaction was brief, a momentary distraction as he made his way to where he needed to go. Yet, he has the time to talk curtly because he was a real good mood.

He knew he looked good, and he knew the effect he had on people too. But, chatting with ladies isn't what was important right now.

For now, it was enough to keep moving and let the world admire from a distance.

Benjamin approached the two-story building, which housed over thirteen apartments and eleven small, cramped rooms.

He couldn't help but squint in disgust.

'you're tellin' me the kid calls this his home?' he thought to himself, feeling a momentary pang of pity.

He paused at the bottom of the stairs, shot his eyes up to Tommy's room window, trying to imagine Tommy's life here.

The thought of Tommy standing on top of that tiny bed, talking to him through the window stacked on those grimy walls, made him feel a strange connection to the boy's suffering.

But just as quickly, his expression shifted to one of pride and wickedness.

With a smug smile, he began walking towards the stairs.

'If he's livin' large in a dump like this, who's to say what's what? He's getting what he deserves, if you ask me,' Benjamin thought, his mind clouded with disdain.