Guy With a Tattooed Neck

"This is Frank Iero." Alison announced to the couple, holding her hand out towards me, like it wasn't already painfully obvious that I was the only kid out here.
"He's not very big. is he stronge enough?" The woman spat, taking in my height with her glare and gazed at me like I was lower than pond scum.
I glared right back at her snide face and was about to tell her to shove it when his voice interrupted.
"He looks fine." He said it in a simple and blunt, almost bored tone, but it still made me blush. I had never been so thankful for the sun, for it looked like the red in my cheeks was from being outside too long, instead of being stupidly embaressed by what probably wasn't even meant as a compliment.
I chanced a glance at the mysteriously, almost quiet man, standing beside the woman, curious as to what his face may put forth about the goings on inside his head.
He wasn't looking at me though, nor at his wife. Instead he was gazing at the array of multi-coloured flowers I had previously arranged.

He slowly wandered over to the flowers, heavy black coat flowing slightly behind him. With his bright, white shirt, top three buttons undone, showing a smooth, pale chest, and his black jeans, the man stood out viciously against the backdrop of colours.

"Why did you set the colours out like this?" He questioned, voice soft and calm, flowing smoothly across the breeze before reaching my ears.
"Because, they look good like that." I replied. In all honesty I hadn't thought about it, I had just placed them where I thought they looked best, no biggie.
"How long do you spend arranging them?" He questioned yet again. I just shrugged this time, not bothering with a verbal answer. His eyebrow slowly rose in question. He could raise both for all I cared, I wasn't about to go around answering pointless questions when I had better things to do, no matter how hot the guy was that was asking them.
Plus, how was I supposed to know how much time I wasted on arrangements? The only reason I spent so much time outside in the first place is so I can try and forget about the crappy life I lead. I don't even own a watch anymore. Some thug across the hall from me stole it last week, almost breaking my arm in the process.

The guy with the gorgeous long hair didn't ask anymore questions, and eventually the couple left. The snide woman shouting, "Tomorrow, then?" over her shoulder as the man held the door open for her. The guy glanced back at the flowers, then at me, giving me a slight nod, before dissapearing into the shabby halls of the orphanage.

When Alison returned from escorting the couple out, I gave her a questioning look.
She didn't look happy and didn't look at me when she finally spoke.
"You're going to work for them, as a gardener. If you do well, you will be paid ten dollars a day. You will live with them from now on."

I glared at her and opened my mouth to argue. She put a hand up to stop me.
"Go clean up and pack. You leave in the morning."
I gave her one last glare before dropping the shovel I had been using, and stomped into the orphanage without removing my boots. Mud sprayed across the floor as I made my way to the staircase. Alison hated it when I did that.