Klas's pov:
Mickailo Ruslanov, the rude, mean, and annoying man I ever met. In his neighborhood, people despised him, an uncommon sentiment towards him. Yet, I love Mickey more than anything. He is my sun, my guardian, and just as the moon shares th...
This morning, my father surprised us with tickets to France. While I've visited my grandparents there many times, I miss them and wanted to see them again. However, I couldn't imagine being in France for a week without Mickey, so I decided to bring him along. I gently knocked on my parents' bedroom door, and my father, in the midst of tying his tie, welcomed me in.
"Father, can we bring Mickey with us?" I asked, trying to convey a hint of sadness. "Oh, I've already made arrangements, and there will be other bodyguards coming with us. Mickey can stay," he replied, making me pout. I pleaded, expressing my comfort with Mickey's presence. An idea struck me, knowing my father's fondness for my pretend girlfriend, Ivy. I decided to trick him, saying, "Mickey helped me with Ivy. I need his advice for our relationship to work, Dad." He sighed and agreed, "Ask him if he wants to come, and let me know. I'll buy a ticket for him."
Excitedly, I rushed out to find Mickey, but he was nowhere to be seen. I approached my mom in the garden, inquiring about Mickey's whereabouts. She informed me that Mickey had gone home earlier, as the weekend was approaching. Concerned, I wondered if he was sick. Determined to check on him, I decided to pay him a visit.
Upon reaching Mickey's house, I knocked on the door, and Max greeted me when he opened it. Inquiring about Mickey, Max sought permission from someone inside before letting me in. Following Max to the backyard, I found Mickey, and my initial smile faded as I noticed his bloody hands gripping a hammer. In front of him sat a middle-aged man, tied to a chair, bloodied and missing teeth. I averted my gaze from the unsettling scene.
"What are you doing, Mickey?" I asked, trying to focus on Mickey rather than the unknown man. Mickey explained, "This is what happens when you don't pay your debt." I muttered an "oh." Curious, I questioned, "Are you going to kill him?" Mickey shook his head, saying, "What's the fun in that?" He raised his eyebrows, and I simply shrugged. Max intervened, saying, "My turn, Mick. Take a break for a bit," as he took the hammer from Mickey. Mickey gestured for me to follow him to the living room.
Worried about his father's return, I asked, "Where's your father?" Mickey reassured me, "He's out of town. Why are you here?" I explained my upcoming trip, hopeful that he would join. "No," he replied curtly. Pleading, I said, "Mickey..." He sighed, rolled his eyes, and reluctantly agreed. Despite wanting to hug him, the blood smeared on his shirt held me back.
Mickey's pov:
Uncertain about what to wear for the trip, I wasn't concerned about others' opinions, but I wanted to look good, especially for Klas. Anthony informed me that he had secured a ticket for me, emphasizing my role as a family friend rather than a bodyguard, which eased my nerves. This marked my first time in another country, on an airplane, and even seeing a flight ticket.
Packing the clothes Klas had generously provided during my time working there, I realized he had showered me with numerous clothes and shoes. I shared news of my upcoming trip with Max, who was supportive. Despite wanting to bring him along with my earnings, the high cost of the flight ticket made it impractical. Reluctant to ask Klas or Anthony for money, I assured Max that someday I would bring him to France.
On the early morning of the trip, I opted for a black jacket paired with a Nirvana long sleeve shirt and black pants, completed with boots.
the clothes:
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