No.
I am going to do it right now.

I am going to introduce myself right here and now. So, my name is Charlie Bolt and I'm originally from Ohio, born and raised.

The reason for me doing this is because I consider myself quite young, for an author atleast. I'm 30. Unlike many other older authors, I could not wait for someone else introduce me to the readers. Call it the quirks of youth, if you will. Not to mention, after a little while, who I am will be the least of your concerns.

So I was born in the city of Akron, Ohio. My father died when I was little leaving my mother, my sister and myself behind. My mother overworked herself to provide for the family.

Since childhood, entertaining people with stories had been a passion of mine, so much so that I decided to take up writing as a career, despite my mother's protests. I took my degree from The Ohio State University, Columbus, which is one of the most prestigious institutes for english, although it wouldn't have been possible if not for the various scholarships and grants I received.

Even while in college, I started working on a plot which took me two years to complete. I took the first draft to one of my friend's uncle, who ran a publishing company. I was told to keep the draft and return in the evening.

And in the evening, I was held at gun-point. The uncle, as it turned out, was some kind of mob boss too, who ran the publishing company as a cover-up.

He explained that the plot impressed him immensely and so he would like to publish it with his son's name as author, who was a struggling author as well. In short, he wanted to pay me off. As we were all from Ohio, I knew these guys weren't messing around. And it's not like they gave me much of a choice either. Besides, I needed the money. So I had to agree.

The book was arguably a bestseller, atleast in the United States. I had to lie to my family about my source of income, of course. I rented a nice apartment to stay secluded.

But the guy grew complacent, and tried to write the 2nd book by himself, which ended in disaster. The book was heavily criticized and rumors began spreading about ghost writers and stuff. So I knew it wasn't long before the mafia came sniffing around. But after barely escaping an assassination attempt in an alley, I knew I had to pack my bags.

I know some of my readers are thinking these are all lies, but I assure you, You have NO IDEA how dark the Underworld is. And of course, for obvious reasons, I can't reveal the identities of anyone I've mentioned so far. I might even need to use a pen-name for this book.

I gave my family excuses saying that I needed to explore the world for inspiration, but I felt guilty about leaving them behind, fearing something might happen to them. But I also could not take them, for I could never explain what I had done. My only relief was that my sister was leaving soon for college and that my mother didn't have too many relatives.

So, keeping my faith in The American Dream alive, I decided to shift to New York. I had a hard time choosing between Buffalo and New York City, then ultimately picked the latter, not for any particular reason other than that I had an old friend there who might be able to help me with lodging. Reaching NYC, I called him up.

Larry Donovan was now well-off as a Real Estate Broker, but he kept tabs on apartment rentals too.

'Hey Charlie! Man, you still look the same! Come here!', said Larry, hugging me.

'Thanks, I wish I could say the same about you. I almost didn't recognize you!'

'Yeah, Larry the Loser in such a big city, wearing formals?!', he joked.

'You know I never called you by that name.'

'Its good to see you man. You hungry?'

'I could eat.'

'Let's talk over brunch. I know a good place nearby.'

I told him that I was looking for an apartment I could rent.

'But Charlie, why rent? I could get you special deals on some very nice...'

'Its not in my budget, Larry', I said gravely.

He sighed heavily.

'Okay, tell me your specifications, I'll see what I can do.'

I told him what I expected in my apartment and added that I would require a roommate too, since this won't be cheap and I had spent a large chunk already on air fare and my family.

'Okay, these are very specific, but I'll try. For now, you can crash at my place.'

I gratefully accepted his offer.

A week later, Larry was done with his research.

'You wouldn't believe this, but I narrowed it down to just two apartments.'

'So, can we go have a look now?'

'Yeah, of course.'

The 1st one was a heart-breaking failure. The apartment was inhabited by a young woman, and she would accept ONLY female roommates. That was a shame, because she was REALLY ATTRACTIVE. I think I saw some hints and emotions in her eyes for me. Well, probably my imagination.

While Larry was driving me up to the 2nd one, I asked him the name of the neighborhood, since it seemed very serene, peaceful and pleasant to me. His answer startled me.

'See if you like your prospective roommate, then I'll tell you.'

'Why? Is he known to be rude and violent or something?'

'No, nothing like that. But his previous roommates have all fled within six months, calling him "A creepy stalker" and stuff like that, since he seems to know too much about them.'

That piqued my interest.

We arrived at our destination, greeted the Landlord, walked up the stairs to the 3rd floor. Before Larry could knock, a voice said : 'Come in, please.'

We entered to find a young guy like me, like 25-27 years old, standing 5 feet away in front of us. He was tall, around 180 cm, with silky, black hair and green emerald eyes. I would have liked to explain his features here too, but if we follow the actual occurrence of events, what happened next caused me to be the most scared I ever was in recent times.

Larry began conversation.

'You must be Mr. Blazing. Nice to meet you. My name is...'

'Larry Donovan, right?'

Larry was shocked, but tried to continue.

'Yes, that's right, and this man here...', he said, pointing at me.

'Is your friend who has recently arrived to NYC and is looking for an apartment to rent, preferably with a roommate. How do you do? Nice to meet you. I'm Steven Blazing.', the guy said, stretching out his hand.

I shook it, unable to make sense of what was going on. I sensed that his grip was firm, and before letting go of my hand, he lightly brushed his palm over my fingers.

He then said,' You're a writer, I believe.'

That crossed my limit. I looked at Larry once, who was as shocked as I was. He mouthed, 'I didn't tell him ANYTHING' back at me. I was now furious.

'Guess its true what they say about you.', I sneered at Blazing.

'And what DO they say about me?'

'That you're a creepy stalker.'

He smiled.

'Please calm down. I didn't intend to flare you up. My statements have a rational explanation. I haven't ever met you or Larry before today.'

'Oh yeah? Then how'd you know I was a writer?'

'Your fingers.'

'What about them?'

'Your thumb, index and middle finger are characteristically rougher and harder than your ring and little finger. This suggests those fingers are used more, and also suggests you don't prefer the modern technology, but stick to the pen and paper.'

'What about ME? How did you know who I was?', Larry questioned.

'You, Mr. Donovan, were here when the old lady on the opposite apartment was moving in. I remembered your voice. As for your name, you had given the old lady your card, which was lying on the floor outside. I just took a quick look.'

'Okay, final question . If you had just heard me, and not seen me, how did you know which one of us was new in NYC, and was looking for an apartment?'

Blazing was pleased at this question.

'Ah yes, good question. Even if we decide to ignore your attires, which suggests that you, Mr. Donovan, with your suit, work here in NYC, and your friend, with their jacket and jeans doesn't, it still was very easy.'

'How is that?'

'I did, of course, glance out of my window on the street when you pulled over. You, Mr. Donovan, were driving. You don't do that when you are new to a city. What's more, you walked with steady, determined steps, already accustomed to your surroundings, while your friend walked two feet behind you, looking all around, taking in the unfamiliar scenery. All of this led me to this conclusion. '

I WAS AGHAST. I BLURTED OUT:

' My God, you're like Sherlock Holmes! '

Blazing smiled and said,' You flatter me, it really wasn't all that difficult. I can never hope to be on his level. Now, may I know your name, sir? '

' I'm Charlie Bolt. '

' Well, Mr. Bolt, please feel free to have a look and tell me if the apartment is okay for you.'

It was really perfect for me.

' I think we should discuss our habits, then. ', said Blazing.

' Oh, I'm really not difficult to live with. I prefer peace and quiet, and I behave likewise. I would like it if you could be my guide around NYC occasionally, since I am new. And...', I said, embarrassed, ' if you could be my proof reader in my books, it would be appreciated. '

' Of course, I would love to. Now, let's see... I wake up quite early and go jogging, you are welcome to join me. Thrice a week, I switch jogging and practice my Krav Maga. Other than that, you will find me a very silent person. My previous roommates have taught me I should keep my mouth shut. ', he laughed.

' Do you smoke or drink? ', I asked.

' No, do you? '

' No. '

He was pleased.

' Well, I believe its settled then? I should be very glad to have you as my roommate, Mr. Bolt. '

' Please, call me Charlie. '

' Let's see if we can make your life in NYC interesting, Charlie. ', said Blazing, winking at me.

AND DEAR GOD, IT WAS INTERESTING.

Hey, it's me again. I hope you liked this chapter. I know it was a little long, and a little boring at the start, but believe me, this chapter will be EXTREMELY IMPORTANT later, so the story just HAD TO start this way.

Once again, please don't skip chapters and spoil the story for yourself. Also, don't forget to vote, comment and read the next chapter!

If you want sneak peeks and exclusive content, I suggest you follow me on Instagram @therealtroubletimes

Hope to see you again soon. Till then, Happy Unscrambling!!

- S. B.