“The room needs to be cleaned and then you can go home, you got that? “ She looked at me, her brown eyes seeming like two snakes ready to bite me. I nodded and chewed on my lip, wondering if I could afford buying something to eat when I would (finally) leave work. A quick calculation told me that I would be very skinny in Korea indeed.

With a sigh I dragged my body to the penthouse, not really paying attention to anything around me. I was too tired, too hungry to think, but I needed the extra money to survive. I worked two jobs, was trying to find a third one just to be able to pay rent. Such was a life style of a broke writer in Japan. My arrival to Japan seemed like distant past. I was young and full of hopes and dreams. Back then I thought that I would get inspired, write a book and become successful. Instead, I became broke and jaded. Fun.

My stepmom told me I could always consider ion, which back then I took as an insult. I was getting desperate enough to think about it now. But...not yet. Right now I had a penthouse to clean, curtesy of another rich boy smashing his way through the hotel bill, and wanting the damage gone.

Rubbing my eyes, trying to erase the sleepiness from my face, I entered the penthouse. Honestly, I didn't see the glamour anymore, I only saw another task. When I first saw the rooms in which the rich and famous lived I was mesmerized, however, now, I just wanted to curl up in a ball and sleep.

There was glass everywhere, the floor glittering like it was full of little diamonds. Clothes were ripped apart and laid in heaps. I could see blood on the carpet, and flowers strewn around the room. To summarize, it looked like somebody dropped a bomb and, conveniently, left it to me to clean the mess up.

I rolled in my cart and closed the doors quietly, already preparing myself for, what it looked like, hours of work.

“How much did you up to get the glorious gift of cleaning this up?” A male voice, filled with anger and sadness, startled me. I stifled a scream, and quickly found a man standing at the end of the hallway that had been empty just a second ago.

He was covered in blood, his hair disheveled, his clothes torn in some places. But that was not what scared me, it was his eyes. They looked wild, almost like he was a caged wild animal, ready to pounce.

I took a step back, feeling my eyes widen. I assumed that the room would be empty, they usually, always, left after they destroyed the room. But…I didn’t feel like I was in danger, strangely enough. The man seemed like more of a danger to himself than anybody else.

Lic