“Hmm” he sighed, he always did that every-time, when he was treated like an UNDERDOG

1992 was the year of his birth. Date, Month, Father – Unknown… They called him Mickey – the son of a slut.

His name was all he knew about himself. He grew on pathetic streets full of perverts and bitches who fed their hunger for coins, for those filthy green papers. Running all the way, to find Roxy his mother, mother who never cared about him. She was so, so much into her work, “the respected work” as they all were Aphrodite spreading love all around.

He grew like a scared kid, then a cunning teenager, and now he is 24 Mickey the drug peddler. Roaming on streets, feeding the fallen angels of BABYLON. Now, he never bought these packages from anywhere. He just robbed them from fat dogs of drug mafia. This makes everyone go nuts. unknown source hurting their business is just un acceptable…

Club Montero…

“Becky! wait here I have some work in there I will be back in 10 mins”, mickey said and went in the Montero strip club. Becky is Mickey’s only friend, an orphan whom mickey treats as his sister. He lives with her feeds her and gives her back the father’s love in return of mother like care.

He entered, loud music, alcohol and sex flowing all around as a seductive music by DJ lord. A bouncer stpped him with a robot kinda look, but mickey leaned on him with his bond style and said “I am here to see Maya”, and tucked 200 bucks in his pocket. Bouncer’s behaviour changed to a waiter and he escorted him to a private cabin.

“O lord show mercy! Forgive me for my sins and keep me safe from devils.”, Mickey’s punch line before meeting his client. He held that curtain with his white hands and entered Maya’s domain…

A room painted, crafted, drawn, and dipped in red. Lights, decor, a steel pole in the corner, lampshades, couch, glasses, container, pillows all red made ready for dripping hot performance than will leave the witness with his uncomfortable bulge craving for elixir. 

But this no-show was making Mickey really nervous. Mickey is not our regular hero kinda man. He is weird and unpredictable. Though people show sympathy to him when they get a glimpse of his left alone past. He is nothing like that though he is a derivation of that very equation.

Mickey sitting ready to go on couch tapping one foot not for music but for this unwanted delay, Tan boots, slim fit low-rise jean, black, rugged, black T with a blue red dragon print, Black old leather jacket. In this attire was sitting Mickey.. This whole persona is his identity now. Slim, athletic, pale skin, soft palms backed up by long fingers with thumb rings. Mickey has a tattoo of  a samurai in front of right side starting from lower neck, half front expanding to his arm and from back he has a nude pros in same way only weaker and with sexy feminine touch. cigarette Pall Mall – Filter in his right hand’s index finger and thumb giving that thick smoke. Sharp, straight nose, eyebrows like a lean bow brown stubble and brown messed hair falling on his right eye, he wipes his hair back by his left hand. He always did that because his right hand is dating cigarettes since he was 15. 


2 thoughts on “Underdog …

  1. I like the way you build characters!

    Even though they may be just the creation of a pen in agreement with the sheet, they seem to have an air about their own. They are so independent in nature and leave one awestruck, with the kind of life they have been bestowed upon. Do be kind to Mickey, Jay, for i would hate to see him gone.


    your avid reader.

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