Ink's POV (Age: 15)

  I was sketching in the living room while mother cooked dinner. Father had just arrived home, who was sitting in his recliner and drinking a beer.

  Looking up, I looked at the green glass bottle that he held. He looked back at me before offering me to try it.

Me: I can't drink that.

Father: I'm letting you taste it, not drink it.

  Taking the glass, I hesitatingly took a sip. It didn't taste bad but not good either.

Me: Dad, why do people drink alcohol?

Father: For a many number of reasons. Some are just for fun, other times they drink to drown away their sorrows. However, a person can go to far and become an alcoholic.

  I nodded before continuing my drawing. I didn't notice that I drew a guy from school, named Matthew Kinsly. He was the one that I was attracted to.

  I tore the paper from my sketchbook and crumbled it, throwing it into the trash can. For the longest time, I thought that being attracted to the same gender was normal but... I was terribly wrong.

In fact, I was ashamed of myself. Ashamed that I wasn't like other people. Everyday, I had to hide myself just because I liked the same gender as me. Everything about me made me ashamed.

  Suddenly, the door bursted opened and people with guns rushed in. I backed away in fear as they took my mom and dad. Hands grabbed my arms and dragged me next to my parents.

???: Grab all the valuables that you can.

  They took my mother's jewelry, the most expensive things in this house. Once they returned, they looked at us. Then, they shot my parents.

  My eyes widened when I saw the bodies of my parents fall lifeless to the floor, their blood created pools. The crimson liquid stained the carpet, the same carpet that my mother had kept so clean.

  They pointed a gun at my head with the intention to shoot me. But the bullet didn't pierce my skull. Looking up, I saw one of the others stopping them from shooting me.

???: Don't shoot him, he's just a kid.

???: But-

???: He's innocent. Besides, you'll already be in trouble for killing the woman.

???: Fine.

  They ran out of the house. I quickly rushed to my dead parents. I picked up my mother and pressed her against my body, burying my face in her neck. Her blood stained my clothes but I didn't care at the point.

  Soon the police arrived.

(Three Years Later)

Ink's POV (Age: 18)

  I blew out a plume of smoke from my cigarette while staring out the window of my home, the orphanage. I watched the newly adopted kid get in the car with his new parents. I felt envy for him.

  I felt a tap on my shoulder. Turning around, I saw my human friend, Roger McCoy, standing behind me. He was attractive but I didn't feel anything towards him. Although, he did know that I was queer. He was quite accepting about it.

Me: Hey Roger.

Roger: Hi Ink. How's people-watching going?

Me: Terrible. Just watched Metallic get fucking adopted.

Roger: Oh yeah. I forgot about that.

  He said as he leaned against the windowsill next to me, lighting a cigarette not long after.

Roger: So, Ink. What is your first plan of action once we're released from this place?

Me: Get a job. Steal some liquor and then drink it.

Roger: Sticking to tradition, I like that. Where are you going to get a job?

Me: That queer bar on the corner of the block.

  Roger chuckled as he took another inhale of his cigarette.

Roger: Why am I not surprised?

After putting out my cigarette, I pushed myself up and turned to leave. However, I suddenly felt hands on my hips.

  Quickly spinning around, I saw that Roger was touching me.

Me: W-What are you doing?

Roger: Just trying to make you happy before you leave.

He said as pushed me against the wall. His leg rubbed against my crotch. Roger kissed me.

My hands went up to the back of his head, grabbing his brown hair.

(Time Skip)

We laid on the floor after our small session of sex.

Roger's neat hair was messy and tangled while I slightly panted.

Roger: I didn't know sex with a guy felt like until now.

  I pushed myself up into a sitting position and grabbed my shirt.

Me: What do you think?

Roger: It felt nice.

Once slipping on my shirt, I stood up and helped Roger up. He fixed his hair as we walked downstairs to meetup the other boys in the orphanage.

(Three Years Later)

Ink's POV (Age: 21)

I entered the queer bar and sat down. Unlike everyone else, I wasn't there to have fun. I was there to drink my sorrows away. Roger was recently murdered, just like my parents. I couldn't hide my sadness anymore.

Andrew: You know, Ink. You come here everyday and then get drunk. Shouldn't you seek out help?

Me: Shut the fuck up. I'm not in the god damn mood to suffer from one of your five hour long lectures.

Andrew sighed.

Andrew: And this is what I meant.

He placed a hand on mine. I grimaced but didn't pull away.

Andrew: I care about you, Ink. I hate seeing you like this so please... for the love of God... get some help. I'm willing to be your therapist if you need me to be.

I downed the rest of my glass. There was an annoyed growl that came from me before I began to speak.

Me: Fine. I'll get some damn help.

(One Year Later)

Ink's POV (Age: 22)

  It's been a year since I have been in this bar. I was scared of what Andrew would think of me.

  I knew I had changed substantially from when we last saw each other.

  I had gotten a job as a bodyguard. I also had stopped drinking and smoking. I felt happier. I was myself again, after so many years.

  Taking a deep breath and tightening my brown scarf, I went down the stairs and into the bar.

  There, working in the same spot, was Andrew. He looked up and saw me. I smiled and waved before sitting down.

Andrew: Oh. My. God. You look so happy. It's adorable. I would love to kiss you but I'm already dating someone.

  I giggled. Andrew offered me a glass but I declined.

Me: I don't drink anymore. I would rather have control over myself. Besides, I can't anyway because of my job.

I awkwardly smiled. Looking at my friend, I saw him staring at me with a smile.

Andrew: I'm happy to finally see the real you, Ink. God! Why are you so cute?

He calmed down after a few seconds.

Andrew: Anyway, you said you can't drink because of your job. What is your job?

Me: I am a bodyguard. I start working next week.

Andrew: Who is your client?

Me: ...

The mafia ruling over New York