The Resident Leader

He slept on the couch, his black hair curling as he twisted in his sleep. He looked strangely peaceful. It didn't suit him. All I could do was watch his sleeping form, praying the police didn't turn up.

Mirrorboy had fucking killed a man without a second thought. He followed my orders, and I can't understand why. I'd honestly expected him to laugh and steal the drugs from me, but apparently not. I didn't think he had it in him to kill any man, even accidentally. I thought he was after power, but it seemed even he couldn't avoid falling under the laws of other people.

I sighed sadly. He seemed so young and innocent while he slept. He could've been normal but he chose to form his own line of rule. People like me, we just wanted to tackle what we thought was wrong. He chose that life and it went wrong for him. Ah well, these things can't be helped.

He stirred slightly on the couch, groaning. I watched him stretch, his shirt riding up to show two gun tattoos decorating his sharp hips. His eyes fluttered open, adjusting to the light and the new surroundings. "They didn't come?" He yawned.

"No. But they're after you. They'll hunt you down." I replied coldly. He laughed and sat up, curly hair bouncing.

"Ooh goody, I've always wanted to be a serial killer!" He laughed. His fringe flopped in front of his eyes and he growled. "Do you have a pair of hair straighteners I can borrow?" He asked.

"No. It looks fine, makes you look like a tubby angel." I replied. I wasn't trying to hit on him, it was the truth. He pouted and crossed his arms over his chest like a child.

"Tubby?! I'm not tubby, you asshole!" He insisted. "No one saw me, did they?" He checked. I shook my head.

"Only me. I'll keep it shut." I promised.

He stood up and walked around the room for a while, inspecting everything. He had such a confidence stance, his back perfectly straight and his head held high. One foot always fell directly in front of the other in some kind of slow strut, his hips swaying ever so slightly. Everything was below him. It wouldn't take him long to earn followers. He made his way into the kitchen. "I'm stealing your food." He informed me.

Did he hate me, or did he consider me a friend? He still seemed quite determined to win the city. I certainly hated him. His humour was dry and slightly boring and he was way too confident. He was so full of himself. I personally thought his hair looked alright, but it clearly wasn't emo enough He came back a minute later, munching on an apple.

"I'm off. Thanks for letting me stay the night." He mumbled behind his hand with a mouth full of apple.

"Watch yourself, the cops want you." I warned, flashing a false smile his way. He swallowed and brushed some raven hair from his eyes.

"But you're the only person who knows I exist. The only living person anyway." He said with a smug smile. "I think it's about time I get off my loner ass and do something about it."

"Why did you confront me outside that coffee shop?" I asked out of curiosity. He paused in thought.

"Cause we're fucked up but we're not the same." He replied, grabbing his jacket and heading towards the door.

"Your mom and dad are the ones you can blame!" I called after him before he slams the door. He stopped dead in his tracks, reversing a little to face me. He smiled, a little melancholic.

"Well my mom and dad wanted nothing to do with me. I guess that can explain a bit." He sighed, leaving quickly.

Funny, my mother and father disowned me too.