Bent over the kitchen floor, the boy furiously scrubbed
until the surface started to shine with a silver sheen. With a heavy sigh, he
picked up his dirty rag and tossed it over the kitchen counter; he threw off
his rubber gloves and pulled the bandanna that was holding his hair in place
loose. His hair sprung to life, gasping for air previously denied by the cloth,
and the boy stretched, letting his joints crack freely. After ironing out the
kinks, he proceeded upstairs to his room to get ready for work.
It was in the afternoon bleeding into early evening. The boy
had a late night job. His job involved what he was good at: cleaning. The boy
was cleaning the house earlier because he was currently the only resident. The
small two-story home situated in the quaint suburbs of anywhere Destiny Islands was his home, and as its sole
resident, it was his responsibility to keep it prim and proper at all times.
One cannot say whether or not living alone caused the sudden onset of neat
freak in the boy, or whether latent OCD tendencies caused him to live alone,
but in either case, the boy was mercilessly trapped by the unending need to
keep all things clean. So with a suite of skills honed by years of practice, he
set out to clean again—except this time he got paid for it.
Waiting by the bus top several blocks away from home, the
boy was dressed casually. One wouldn’t think he was getting ready to go to
work, but appearances can be deceiving. The boy didn’t want anyone to notice
him, above all, any classmates from school. It was a small fear, since he
didn’t particularly stand out in school in the first place, but you can never
be too careful. As the bus rolled into position, the boy entered, dropping his
coins to pay his respects to the driver, and got himself into a seat near the
back of the bus. Leaning back and staring absentmindedly out the window, the
boy tried to let the day’s worries escape him.
In the middle of high school, balancing a job and schoolwork
was no small feat. It is a task that the boy was not too good at. He was
letting his school work suffer at the moment, since money was the more pressing
issue. The scenery outside changed from the quiet suburbs to the hustle and
bustle of the city. The bus deftly maneuvered through the streets, till it
stopped in a particularly seedy part of town.
He exited the bus, with the driver giving a familiar but
cheeky look, and then turned his attention to a gaudy building laden with neon.
The effervescent glow would soon become blinding as soon as the sun dipped
below the horizon. But for now, it served a beacon guiding his way to work.
After all, he was a cleaner…at a love hotel.
