Authors POV

The boy sat quietly at the corner table in the small, familiar cafè. He was a boy in his twenties, with wild brown hair, shot with black streaks. He always wore a disgustingly purple coat, with green patches over old holes, even during the summer. His shirts were differently coloured, though all were old and wrinkled, and stained with sweat and last week's dinner. His eye always darted around the room, as if looking for something. It seemed that he couldn't sit still either.

The waitress always reluctantly brought him coffee, wheather he ordered it or not. He almost never touched it; if he did, it was only sipped from once or twice, with the rest if it falling down the front on his shirt. He never seemed to notice though. He was only interested in watching people come and go, or looking at the faces already there. This week, it was friday when he finnaly decided that he found whatever he was looking for.

"Excuse me," He said to a couple on the other side of the room. His voice sounded almost like nails on a chalkboard, and his breath was rancid as thr colour of his coat. But it was his face that made him seem awfully different from the rest of him. His face was so innocent and baby-like that if you got lost in it, you'd never be able to find your way out.

"Is Qiang your name?" The other boy set his drink down, and looked up at the fool who had talked to him. "I'm afraid not, little boy. I'm Huang." Huang took a look up at the boy