♥ Chapter 1♥

Axel Norvelli. 

Four years later. 

Four years have passed since I left New York. When I ran away, I was only seventeen. At first, everything was extremely difficult. I couldn't get on a plane, so my only option was to travel by bus. When I finally arrived in Valdoria, everything was new and scary: new people, an unfamiliar environment, and a city that seemed gigantic and intimidating.

Valdoria is a gigantic country without states, which is very striking. The streets are wide, and beautiful trees adorn the sidewalks, giving the city a feeling of freshness and vitality. The buildings are huge, skyscrapers that seem to touch the sky, and there are a multitude of stores of all kinds, selling everything from luxury products to everyday essentials. The city is vibrant and full of life, a striking contrast to my previous life in New York.

Before fleeing, I spent hours researching Valdoria. I knew there was a place that housed people who wanted to live in the country, and this information was my salvation. I spent a few months in that shelter, trying to adjust and find my way. Eventually, I got a job in a small café. It was a start, and although I worked in the kitchen to avoid interacting with customers, it was what allowed me to earn enough money to rent a small apartment.

Working in the café was a challenge, but also a blessing. I stayed in the kitchen, preparing meals and avoiding the eyes of others. My shyness and lack of confidence were paralyzing, and I always feared that someone would recognize me or that my past life would somehow catch up with me.

The years passed, and now, at the age of 21, I work at one of the richest nightclubs in Valdoria. It's an elegant place that pays well, and it's where I got a job as a bartender. Despite my shyness and insecurity, I do an excellent job. I make great drinks and have learned how to deal with customers, even if I still avoid direct eye contact.

I let my hair grow to cover my eyes, as a way of hiding myself. The insecurity is still there, but I'm learning to deal with it, one day at a time. Every night, however, the nightmares about that horrible day in New York still haunt me. The memory of the humiliation and rejection lives on, but I try to bury it in the back of my mind as I struggle to build a new life in Valdoria.

Working in a nightclub is a constant challenge. The place is always full, with a demanding and often intimidating clientele. Some customers are downright scary, looking like they're part of a gang or something worse. They're always covered in tattoos, and their expressions are harsh and threatening, making me nervous. I try to keep to myself and not attract their attention. The manager always says that whatever happens in the club stays in the club. It's a rule.

However, I have found a kind of rhythm in my work. Preparing drinks has become a kind of art for me, a form of expression that allows me to forget, at least for a few moments, the demons of my past.

*****

17:30 '' Apartment. '' Valdoria.

Right now, I'm getting ready for work. My life is all about going to work and coming home. I don't have any friends, and I'd rather not. My work starts at six in the evening and finishes at five in the morning. When I get home, I just sleep and get ready for the night to come.

Every day is a struggle to keep my sanity, but I keep going, hoping that one day it will all be worth it.

As I prepare for another night's work, I start with my clothes. I chose a black shirt and a dark vest, matching my reserved personality and my desire to go unnoticed. The outfit is simple, but appropriate for the nightclub environment. I put the shirt on carefully and adjusted the vest, checking my reflection in the mirror. Then I fix my hair, letting it fall over my eyes, as I always do. This simple gesture gives me a feeling of security, as if I were hiding behind an invisible curtain.

I let out a sigh, thinking about how things could be different. When I earn more money, maybe I'll take a vacation—some time to get away from the heavy routine and re-evaluate my life. But for now, I pick up my things and leave the room. My apartment is very simple: one bedroom, one bathroom, and the living room and kitchen together. It's not much, but it's enough for me. I like the simplicity and freedom it offers me, away from the oppression of my parents.

I feel free from the pressure that dominated me before, and I'm determined to make sure that my life is never controlled by someone else again. With that thought, I leave the apartment. As I live on the second floor, I prefer to walk down the steps rather than use the elevator. The soft evening breeze touches my face as I walk calmly to the bus stop.

At first, I thought Valdoria was the perfect place. The city looked promising, with its wide, vibrant streets. However, I soon discovered that the reality was quite different. There is an alarming rate of robberies, something that is quite common here. Violence is high, with many deaths occurring frequently. The police are always busy arresting drug dealers, and I often see people being arrested for drug use. I've even heard rumors of kidnappings too. The dark side of the city quickly revealed itself, and the glow I initially saw in Valdoria began to fade.

As I wait for the bus, I can't help thinking about how the city always seems to be on the brink of chaos. However, I try not to let it get me down. There's little I can do but carry on working and trying to keep my life in order. The bus arrives, and I climb aboard, ready to face another night in the vibrant yet frightening atmosphere of the nightclub.

*****

18:30 '' Nightclub. '' Valdoria.

I arrive at work and enter through the back door, located behind the alley. The nightclub, with its flashing lights and background music, seems to have an energy of its own. My coworkers are there, some already setting the mood for the evening. They greet me, but I just nod, trying not to stand out.

“What's up, Axel?” says one of the colleagues, a guy with short hair and visible tattoos. ''Ready for another night?

'' Yes. '' I reply, trying to sound more confident than I really am.

I walk into the staff room and close the door behind me. I put my things in a small cupboard, while looking at the uniform hanging on the wall. At first, I was surprised to hear that there was a uniform for working in a nightclub. I was expecting something more casual, but I soon put that aside and started changing. The uniform is simple, a white shirt with the nightclub logo and a black vest. I put it on quickly and adjusted the collar, thinking how, despite the glamour of the place, the reality of work is very different.

I put my belongings in the locker and left the staff room. The bar is waiting for me, and I head straight there. I start cleaning the counter, wiping it down with a damp cloth to remove any dirt or residue from the previous shift. The task is almost meditative, a moment of tranquility before the hustle and bustle of the night. I organize the bottles, glasses, and utensils, preparing everything for when the customers start arriving.

As I work, the sound of the music mixes with the distant murmur of the customers who are already arriving, waiting at the door. The atmosphere in the nightclub is electric, but the bar, for the moment, is silent, waiting to be occupied. This gives me time to concentrate, organize my workstation, and prepare my mind for the night ahead.

The nervousness slowly dissolves as everything falls into place. I try to stay in the present moment, away from thoughts of the past and the fears that haunt me. The clean counter and organized drinks are my little sanctuary, a place where I can lose myself while the customers aren't arriving and the nightclub is still getting ready to open its doors.