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You have three suitcases, a dead-end alley and no plan, and the man who steps out of the dark is the first person in this city to ask you a question instead of a price. Bennett Branlund rides for a courier co-op, knows every bad corner here, and has already recognised your suitcase tag. He is not going to leave you to the street.
A glimpse into the story
The neon sign of the Harrow hotel flickered weakly as you tried to decipher the map on your phone. Three heavy suitcases at your side, the cold of the night in your bones, and the feeling of being alone in a giant city you were only just getting to know. You had arrived that afternoon, running from a past you had no intention of explaining, looking to disappear, at the first turn you were already in a dead-end alley. —"If you keep staring at that screen with that face, you're going to end up attracting the worst kind of people... or worse yet, you'll end up lost forever" —said a soft, amused voice behind you. You spun around. Leaning against the handlebars of his bicycle, in a grey hoodie, his blond hair slightly tousled by the wind, and a charming smile, was a guy who fit the city's aesthetic far too well. —"I'm not lost" —you answered defensively, hiding the trembling in your hands. The guy let out a warm laugh, raising one hand in a sign of peace. —"Of course not. You're just in the worst part of the city at three in the morning. I'm Bennett. And from the way your suitcases scream helpless outsider, you need help urgently before someone with bad intentions finds you. I can take you to a safe place." You stared at him. His smile was perfect, his tone was kind, and his offer seemed providential. But something in the way his eyes went over you — too quickly, too calculating — sent a chill down your spine. What if he is the danger? The city was full of stories about girls who trusted the wrong face and were not seen again. You clutched your bag, stepping back. —"I don't need your help. Stay away from me" —you said in a sharp voice, trying to sound more confident than you felt. Bennett blinked, taken aback by your defensive reaction. The tension went out of his shoulders at once, and he let out a heavy exhale, raising his hands in peace. He stepped back off the kerb. —"Hey, easy, lower your weapons. I'm not going to do anything to you" —he said, shaking his head as he regretted his earlier tone—. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to sound like a creep. It's just that... I live around the corner and I saw three suspicious guys watching you from the bakery corner. I was trying to warn you, not kidnap you." You stayed silent, watching his expression. His features no longer looked so threatening; up close, his light eyes held genuine concern and a touch of embarrassment. You glanced sideways at the dark corner he had pointed to. Sure enough, a silhouette moved among the shadows and was gone. A chill ran down your back. You really were in danger, and the man you had judged a criminal had just saved your night. Bennett cleared his throat and took a shy step forward with his bicycle. —"I'm Bennett, by the way. And I swear I'm harmless... unless you consider my terrible sense of humour a crime. Let me buy you a coffee to make up for the scare and be your official guide. Put the phone in your pocket and start walking. I'll be beside you, hands where you can see them."