Chapter 1: Life After

Three months later, Houston, Texas…

Sunlight beamed down on the world during this late summer evening. A week of hard work had finally ended for many. And with exhaustion seeping into every working person's bones, many sought to relax in the comfort of their homes. Hundreds walked in an exhausted yet fulfilled manner down below on the streets, hoping to see an extra set of numbers in their bank account. And when looked at from above, all traveled like that of an ant colony, navigating towards the ant hill to feed their queen.

Miles away from the center of these exhausted individuals, in a part of the city where graffiti and trash became the norm, was a run-down building not too different from those around it. In this one building, there were multiple apartments inside where the sun hardly penetrated. One specific apartment in this run-down building was especially bare, with nothing worth noticing except for one person. In the middle of this confined, moldy apartment, a homeless man sprawled across the floor, snoring. At first glance, it would be clear to steer away from him. His tattered clothes and ungroomed beard repelled everyone with a toxic animosity, especially in the unconditional way he slept on the floor. But with no mattress, it made sense why the homeless man decided to sleep on the floor while trash lay nearby. Around the man, bottles of beer and clear bags with a flour-like look and texture lay. As well as several fast food wrappers and bags.

In the only window the apartment offered, warm evening sunlight slowly paced around the room, eventually shining on the man. Feeling the warmth of the evening sun, the homeless man awoke and proceeded to twitch and shuffle around to escape the warming sun. Once away from the gaze of the sun, he attempted to once again fall asleep; however, the man's phone unfortunately rang at that moment. Opening his eyes and leaning towards his phone, he gazed at it for a moment expressionlessly before laying down once again and proceeding with his attempt for rest. For several minutes, call after call came with no answer. It was not until minutes after that that the calls stopped, and the homeless man had the opportunity to fall asleep. And it was not until several hours had passed that he would finally answer.

Hours had passed by this point as the moon came to linger. The sun had long since set, and nothing but darkness enveloped the old room. But it was here that the man felt most comfortable speaking to his caller.

" What, Alejandro?"

"Jefe, you finally answered. I thought something bad had happened."

"I'm fine. I won't kill myself, so there's no need for you to call every day."

Speaking to Alejandro so many times in the last couple of weeks enlightened him and made him realize why he called every day. It was for assurance. Alejandro did not want the man dead.

"Yea but… Actually, there's another reason why I called today."

"What is it?"

"You told me your shot had healed last week, so I wanted to ask how much longer you were planning on staying in Texas?"

Even though months had passed since the man left California, he had never given much thought to the future. Right now, he was content with where and what he was doing. Was there any real need to leave?

"I haven't given it much thought; why?"

"It's just that money's been tight recently, and the apartment has really been taking a chunk out of my savings."

For only a brief moment did anger surface on the man's face. The man knew exactly how much Alejandro earned and knew he was far from broke. But even though he knew this, he did not have the energy to confront Alejandro about his lie. But the situation concerned the man greatly, and years of dealing with annoying situations such as this caused solutions to influx into the man's head. However, in his current state, nothing seemed more important than ingesting cocaine.

"… When do you need me out of here?"

"I'd like you to be gone in a couple of weeks."

"Alright, I'll try to be out of here as soon as I can."

"Wait! I also have one more question."

"What?"

"Do you want to become head again?"

"…No, I've done my time."

Hanging up at that moment, the man dropped his phone and gazed outside the only window in this cramped apartment to see nothing but black. Gradually, the phone slipped out of his fingers, clattering onto the plastic tiled floor, stained with unknown marks. A sudden desire crumbled every previous thought the man had as he grasped his head and leaned down. A cold sweat eventually formed as he looked around the room desperately, fixating on his desire when he saw it. He ran to the object of his desire with a crazed glare, placing it on the small island in the kitchen and opening it roughly. Then, with shaking hands, he grabbed a spoonful of his desire, its flour-like look becoming the object of his glare. Finally, in an act of near craziness, the white powder flowed into the man's body through his nostril, relaxing him. His previously heated glare and heavy breathing were now gone, replaced with dilated eyes and an empty mind. He then sprawled out onto the ground as if he had lost all common sense, and in a boggling act, he drifted into another deep slumber. One where he would not wake until the next morning.

Hours passed as the man slept, yet for the man, it felt as if only minutes had passed before he finally awoke. Slowly opening his dark black eyes, the man stared up at the ceiling for what felt like an eternity with nothing on his mind. It would not be until minutes later that he would sit up. Sleeping throughout the day inadvertently caused a scrambled sleep schedule, disrupting his circadian rhythm. But he preferred to wake up at weird times anyway, although he was not always like this. As head, he exuded a confident yet grounded aura, backed by his actions. However, he now seemed nothing like the man who once stood tall, facing problems as though they were nothing. For now, only a portion of his former self remains.

Standing up from the floor laggardly, the man's body leaned left to right in an unreadable motion as he wiped the drool off his mouth. Then, in a stumbling manner, he stepped into the compact kitchen the apartment held. Pulling the fridge handle open and seeing what was inside. Yet he already knew it was completely empty except for condiments from when the man would eat fast food. Seeing the absolute emptiness the fridge held and hearing the resolute protests from his stomach, the man decided to go to the store. Not only could he stock up on food essentials, but he had run out of beer as the homeless man had already ingested everything he had. Although he would prefer fast food for convenience, the man was dead broke, and digging through his pockets for his wallet would prove this fact. Opening it and calling it empty would be an understatement; his wallet was so bare that flies escaped when opened, as though they were in relief to leave the empty wallet. But as bare as it was, there was at least twenty dollars, the absolute last of the money he had. Knowing he now had twenty dollars left to his name, he decided to journey to the supermarket.

While walking to his local supermarket, he contemplated the conversation with Alejandro. Questioning what was said earlier.

'It's obviously not about the money. Even if I were sucking all his cash away, the bond of the family wouldn't die out so quickly. But although I don't know why he lied to me, it's easy to guess. The new head, Vicente, must be putting pressure on Alejandro and those still loyal to me. Right now, there are only three scenarios he would believe. Either I died, ran away, or I am in hiding, trying to build up a force. It's an idiotic thought to me, but for him, it's a sad reality he believes he'll face. Right now, at this moment, he should be looking for any traces of my presence. He knows that if I were to return and try to reclaim what's rightfully mine, the forces I could pull would be substantial. In his eyes, I could be increasing my forces this very second. Not only that but finding me and killing me would stabilize those still loyal to me. Knowing him, if he were to find me, my head being hanged would be the least of my worries. I should expect to be tortured and decapitated in front of everyone if I were found. Fortunately for me, being a full state away keeps me out of his sphere of influence. However, he would definitely send people to try and get me if he were to find where I am. So me and Alejandro should have the same goal: to distance ourselves from each other. Not only could he betray me, but he knows exactly where I am and my current state of being. Even if he still sees me in a positive light, the threat of death would make that pussy fold. It would be better to completely cut myself off from him, but it's not worth it considering the downsides. The biggest one is that I'd be cut off from information. But there's no way in hell I would put enough trust in him to believe everything he tells me in the first place. It's unfortunate for Vicente, though; I'm a huge pain in the ass and a constant source of stress for that motherfucker. Although I'm happy about that fact, this also means he is probably looking really hard for any trace, and the pressure is definitely a lot on those loyal to me. Alejandro, as the actual culprit, must be feeling it harder, whether externally or internally, considering his less-than-tactful actions earlier. And the more Vicente looks into this, the more suspicious Alejandro'll look. And if he were to rat me out, knowing the new boss, Alejandro's head would be right next to mine when hanged.'

Snapping out of thought after arriving and entering the supermarket, the man walked through the automatically opening doors and went toward the alcohol section of the store to get some Corona beers. The constant thinking had made him crave it even more. Then after, the man proceeded to get a 12-pack of eggs.

Going to the store checkout, the clerk there asked for the man's ID. Looking at him now, one would assume he was at least 35. So, slightly surprised, he pulled it out and gazed at it. It had been months since he last looked at it and saw just how different he was now. Having taken the photo years earlier, while he was still young and naive, you could see the ambition and passion that permeated through his body language in the photo. Seeing it now, the man scoffed lightly at the photo before passing it to the clerk.

Soon after, he left the store and walked back to his apartment. Stepping slowly and steadily, he stared down at the ground as he walked. However, in an act of randomness, he looked up towards the sky and witnessed the sun rise slowly. The huge orange globe lit up the sky as it rose above all else. A light orange hue slowly lit the surrounding buildings, approaching the man and the asphalt at a snail's pace. For the man, it had felt like years since he last experienced the calmness of a sunrise. He gazed at the bright orange sun briefly before continuing his walk, feeling slightly better. The warming wind blew towards him, rustling his unkempt hair, while cars passing by became more frequent. Through all this, the man thought about what to do to distance himself from Alejandro.

'As much as I would love to get rid of that clown, I'm still in desperate need of money. Everything I once had is gone—all the money, the influence—shit, I don't even have a gun right now. With no money, getting a house or apartment financially separate from Alejandro is impossible. And asking for more money is stupid as well; although I doubt he would sell me out over some dollars, it's better to not try. So, what can I do? Should I try and get a job?'

Immediately after that thought entered the man's mind, he laughed at himself for thinking of something so foolish. He was rich just months ago, but now he was living in a mold-infested apartment with nothing saved. If this were months ago, the man's pride would have been cut deep. But now, it was nothing more than an afterthought.

During his time as boss, he trusted them too deeply. All of his bank accounts were known to his 'family'. Taking out any sum of money would not only verify that he was still alive, but it would also reveal his location. It seemed as though he was blocked at all sides, with the only viable option being to get a job and live as a normal man. But he was not determined enough to do that, not to mention the lack of time he had before he needed to leave.

Arriving at the entrance of his apartment unit, he stood in front of the door and stared at everything around him. It was unit 21. Around this golden number, multiple cracks and holes penetrated deep into the door. This truly made him realize his dire situation. Now he was only slightly more well-off than a bum. However, continuing like this would surely lead to homelessness and, eventually, death. But he had gotten too lazy; the man had lost all motivation to try and better himself on that day. What he needed right now was a new place to stay and rot. Farther from California and unknown to Alejandro. Although the man no longer valued his life, he did not want to go through the trouble of killing himself.

Finished staring at the poor excuse of an apartment he had, the man entered and popped a bottle of Corona open while frying some eggs. Even though cooking had never piqued the man's interest, he still knew how to make basic foods. He had learned from his mother years ago, as he and his sister would be taught side-by-side while their mother would watch diligently. Usually, it was during this time of day that his father would be out working. Thinking of his actual family, the man felt unfamiliar yet close feelings. His heart hurt as he reminisced about times long gone. Both his mother and sister had left his life years ago in different ways. However, thinking of his actual family led him to a sudden realization. Seconds passed in this sudden moment of enlightenment as he paused, checking his eggs. Pulling his phone out of his pocket as soon as this enlightenment was processed, he dialed a number he was told years ago. However, he hesitated, truly calling. Multiple doubts and disturbing thoughts entered his mind as he questioned whether this was a good choice. But this was the only choice he had. In his sorry state, asking for help from his true family was the only solution. Internally knowing this, the man gradually grew the resolve to call. Multiple rings went through before it was answered, and he heard the voice of his sister. A voice not too different from that of his memories, a voice of someone now much older. And through the phone, he could finally hear it one more time.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Hola hermana (Hey sis), this is Francisco."