I am Rafka. My job as a gigolo at a night club. From the outside, I appear to enjoy my job. If you've ever encountered me briefly, you would probably think my life is perfect. But that's just a facade. I really hate my job. So, why don't I leave? Look for another job and leave the nightlife world? If you want to know the answer, you have to explore my story first. So you'll understand, the dreadful tale that shackles my body behind the cheerful mask I've been wearing all along. This story is part of the Trilogy of Night Club. 1. Weekend Lover 2. Seductive Police 3. The Guy and Little Girl
Chapter 1 Prologue
There was nothing unusual about the traffic on that bright day. The streets were busy as usual. People went about their business, bustling around.
The only difference was the presence of the middle-aged man. Standing on the roadside, his expression weary and burdened by a profound sorrow that couldn't be concealed. His sturdy physique revealed his early fifties. However, the wrinkles etched on his face, the circles beneath his eyes, and the sagging skin made him appear older than his actual age.
It's not the increase in age that makes the man seem so haggard and weak. But rather, it's the suffering etched in his red eyes. Eyes that continuously shed tears, moistening the white board within his embrace.
Some drivers and their passengers seemed to touch their chests in sympathy upon seeing the man, but continued driving away. Others didn't even have time to take notice. A few pedestrians who weren't too busy paused briefly to digest the words on the sign, but then shook their heads with compassion as they walked away.
Only that young man paid attention.
The man's clear plea written on the white board in his embrace felt like a scratch on the young man's tender heart. Slowly, the young man approached.
For a moment, the young man just stood there motionless, gazing at the middle-aged man. Eventually, the man turned around, sensing he was being observed. The young man smiled and then handed over a plastic bag containing a cold soda that he had intended to enjoy himself at home.
"For you. You must be thirsty," said the young man politely.
The man just stared at the young man for a few moments, then accepted the plastic bag with gratitude. A faint smile adorned his dry lips.
"Thank you."
The young man nodded in response. "We should sit down. You've probably been standing here for quite a while." He offered.
A slight hesitation clouded the man's eyes. He looked at the sign in his embrace, unwilling to move from his spot. He was determined to stand there all day until someone would extend a hand to hear the cry of his heart.
As if he could hear the man's thoughts, the young man smiled gently and then embraced the man's shoulders in a friendly manner. His other hand took hold of the white board. With care, the young man guided the man towards a bus stop not far from there.
After sitting down, the young man opened the drink bottle from the plastic bag and then handed the drink over again. This time, without hesitation, the man drank the soda.
"What actually happened to your daughter?" the young man asked a few moments later.
The man's eyes began to well up as he recalled his daughter's fate. "She's suffering from kidney failure. Both of her kidneys are damaged." The man paused briefly to wipe his wet eyes. "She needs a kidney donor. My wife and I have volunteered, but our kidneys are not a match. I don't know why, even though she's our biological daughter."
The man no longer continued his story, his face bowed down to hold back tears. The young man could only pat the man's back.
How lucky this man's daughter is, thought the young man. The girl has parents who love her so much and are so eager for her recovery. As for himself, he had only known his father briefly. His mother was even worse. She's a selfish woman who only thinks of herself.
No one loves him. No one cares about his health. So, what is the purpose of his life? Isn't it just to wait for the angel of death to take him away?
His life is completely worthless. Unlike the life of the man's daughter next to him. Could it be that God is giving him a chance to do good after years of living in sin?
"May I offer myself to be the donor?"
The question made the man look suddenly. He gazed at the handsome young man with an expression of disbelief.
"You really want to donate your kidney to my daughter?" his tone was full of doubt. "But why? You're still so young."
The young man smiled at the man's expression. "Should I give a reason?"
The man remembered that this was indeed what he had hoped for. Someone with an angelic heart willing to help his daughter. He shouldn't have to ask for the reason. And he would give the promised reward as written on the white board.
"No. You don't need to give a reason." Suddenly, the man knelt before the young man. "I just need to thank you."
The young man quickly grabbed both of the man's shoulders and helped him stand up. He felt really uncomfortable with the man's gesture. Someone as good as this man, who was willing to sacrifice everything for his daughter, didn't deserve to kneel before someone as lowly as himself.
"You don't have to do this. We don't even know if my kidney will be a match for your daughter."
The man smiled. "I know. I know that you're the one. I can feel it. You're the angel who will save my daughter."
The young man simply smiled sadly upon hearing the man's words.
The man is wrong. He is not an angel, but a demon so filthy and despicable.
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♥ Aya Emily ♥