The sun was already setting when Lenny arrived back at his home—the studio apartment in a complex in Montreville, Orlande.
Entering the apartment, he immediately freshened up and changed into a casual blue shirt with faded jean trousers.
He grabbed a thin rope from his wardrobe and put it in his bag along with his work uniform, then he zipped it and headed for the door.
His current primary job was that of a convenience store cashier and he was on the night shift that began by 4:00 PM, however, time was already a few minutes past.
After shutting the apartment door and locking it, he looked to the side and saw an unfamiliar face—a brown-skinned lady in a skimpy dress with distressed makeup.
She glanced at him and contorted her face slightly, as though expressing her disgust and apprehensiveness at his stare.
Avoiding eye contact with him, she hastily unlocked the door of the apartment at the far right, entered, and quickly shut it.
'…She must be the new neighbor Mike told me about.'
Lenny didn't bother with that and rushed out of the five-story apartment complex.
Using the subway, he arrived at his workplace, Jack's QuickStop—a small convenience store located uptown in the upper-middle-class borough of Neapolis known as The Victorias.
Entering through the back, a short, chubby, tan-skinned, middle-aged man with a full beard stood behind the counter.
"You are 45 minutes late, Lenny Park!" he yelled with a deep Indian accent.
Quickly donning his work uniform, which was a simple red sleeveless jacket with a nametag on it, Lenny apologized, "Very sorry, Mr. Singh."
"I don't pay you to slack off! Why are you always late?!" Mr. Singh asked furiously.
Lenny fervently shook his head as he apologized.
"I'm very, very sorry, sir—very sorry…"
Despite Lenny's fervent apologies, Mr. Singh yelled at him some more before subjecting him to an eleven-hour shift as punishment, instead of the regular ten hours.
Time flew by quickly, and the world outside had fallen into the darkness of the night.
In the store, customers had only averaged about six to ten people per hour.
The business wasn't looking too promising nowadays, probably due to the emergence of another convenience store just down the street belonging to the big retail chain company—ShopMart.
It was understandable. Customers would rather buy from a known company with a brand they were familiar with, rather than some basic store in the neighborhood.
By 2:00 AM, it was already a new day, the last day of January.
Lenny's shift had drawn to an end.
He cleaned the store and locked up before donning an old jacket he carried and walking out into the street.
Swoosh~
The cold winter wind blew past his face and made his hair dance.
Pausing and observing his surroundings, the streets were empty and peaceful, with the air, fresh and cold.
One particular faulty street light flickered incessantly with a constant, annoying buzz.
A few cars were parked on the roadsides, with only a couple walking far ahead.
In this sort of neighborhood, night crimes were most likely non-existent.
Quietly, Lenny let out a deep sigh, foggy warm air escaping his lips. He hailed a cab and looked around once again, then entered.
…
At an abandoned building at the edge of Queensgate, Lenny rested his hands on the iron fence of the site which bordered the expensive sea.
He had scouted this area already a few days back. It was the perfect place for him.
Lenny placed his phone slightly far from his ear, his voice filled with immense joy as the tides fought against the concrete far below.
"Lenny here, as you must've known already since you called this line. Leave whatever you've got to say at the beep. However, you gotta know, that I'm most likely not gonna call back. Ha! Currently living the dream in Las Vegas, haha…"
Beep~
Letting out a heavy sigh, he drooped his shoulders.
He knelt and with great difficulty, lifted a 200-pound kettlebell over the fence. Then, he gently placed it on the thin ledge on the other side.
When he had scouted this place, he bought the kettlebell and kept it here, unable to easily carry it around with him.
Cursing his lack of physical prowess, Lenny breathed heavily and crossed the iron fence.
He held the fence as support and found a semblance of balance on the thin ledge.
Carefully and cautiously retrieving the thin–strong rope from his bag, he tied it to the weighty kettlebell and then fastened it to his right ankle.
After accomplishing the task, he stood firmly and basked in the fresh winter air coming from the Atlantic.
He closed his eyes as he let the wind blow past him. True sobriety.
He picked up his phone again and dialed his mother—Sarah's number.
Fingers pausing, he contemplated his action for a couple of seconds before finally clicking the green call button.
Quickly putting the phone up to his ear, he forced a smile.
"H-Hey, Ma. It's me. Just wanted to hear your voice and talk," he sighed, "I'm very sorry about the way I left so quickly…
"I promise, next time, we'll have a nice meal and catch up on lost ti—"
Abruptly, a voice emerged from the other side of the phone.
"The person you are trying to call is not reachable at the moment. Please try again lat—Bip!"
Lenny abruptly cut the call and rested his hand back on the fence. Shoulders sinking, he let out a soft breath.
'…What was I even thinking?'
Sporting a sheepish smile, he gazed up at the cloudy moon in the lonely sky, devoid of stars.
His expression softened at the sight.
"What a shit life you've lived, Lennard…"
He shook his head, throwing the raging emotions, thoughts, and regrets to the back of his mind.
Standing on the thin ledge, he faced the sea and loosened his grip on the fence bar.
'Well, let's get this over with…'
He took a deep, deep breath in… and then exhaled.
"The knot is too loose," said a surreal voice from the darkness behind, startling Lenny.
Almost losing his footing, he apprehensively questioned, "Wh-What the… Who's there?"
"Just a stranger," the voice said, an unsettling chill in their tone. The voice sounded neither male nor female.
Lenny twisted his neck to the best he could to scan the dark foreboding structure behind, however, all he could pick up on was a strange figure lurking in the shadows.
As this place was an abandoned project, there was no light source here, with only moonlight serving to illuminate a few areas, albeit dimly.
Afraid the individual would call the police or something, he despondently asked, "Are you going to call the authorities?"
"Not at all," the voice answered simply.
Lenny was taken aback, slightly worried. Who was the fellow lurking in the shadows? Why were they there? Did they have something else planned?
'…If he were one of Boss's men, he would've apprehended me by now…'
Thinking back at what the individual said about the loose knot, Lenny wondered, "Aren't you like… going to stop me?"
"Not at all."
"Then… what do you plan on doing?"
"Not a thing."
"..." Lenny fell silent. He pondered whether or not the person lurking in the shadows was even human. If they actually were human, they obviously had a stone for a heart.
However, unironically, Lenny knew that was the more plausible answer because he also knew people generally never cared about others unless it was beneficial to them.
"Why?" the stranger voiced, a slight curiosity laced in their tone.
Lenny understood the shadow lurker was asking why he wanted to commit suicide.
With the kettlebell tied to his ankle, it was pretty obvious he had no plans on swimming back up, ever.
"Hmmm, why? Well, I owe over 200 grand. With no degree, talents, skills, or connections, even if I work till I drop dead I could never pay it all back. And coupled with the exorbitant interest rate, I'll still be paying it well past my 40s."
"And the weight?"
"Oh, this? I don't want my corpse to be found, so I won't be pronounced dead. My mother would still be happy even though I abandoned her for a better life, however, if she knows I'm dead…" Lenny's voice trailed to a halt.
With the voicemail message from earlier, coupled with the fake rich life stunt he pulled just the day before, a clearer picture of Lenny's master plan was painted.
The story went like this: After Lenny earned enough money, he abandoned his mother and old life to travel the world, starting with a good time in Las Vegas.
He clarified. "I don't want her to find out her son was a lonely, lying fake. She can't find out I'm a failure and ... and a loser. But uh … most importantly, I can't have her find out I abandoned her. That'll … that'll most likely break her…"
A cold bout of silence washed over the area, only occasionally disrupted by the battles of the tides.
"You're afraid," the stranger said.
Lenny closed his eyes and raised his head to the sky, the gentle wind blowing past his dry, dark brown hair.
He solemnly asked, "Do you want to hear a sad story?"
"No."
Disregarding the shadow lurker's heartless answer, Lenny continued.
"This city is… sad. From my friend, Ray purchasing $1,400 shoes and working as a regular accounting receptionist, to old man John who has an $11,000 watch but takes on odd jobs to put food on the table, or Mike with a $6,000 custom-made designer suit but can barely even pay for his internet…
"In the system we're in, only connections and 'perceived' status matter when you're at the bottom. So sometimes, to get that, you have to create an image. When you don't have fame or influence, at least show that you have money. What better way to do that than by buying expensive things? It's not like our account balances are written on our foreheads. They buy such useless things to build this social image...
"Which is also why they readily lent me their prized possessions when I told them I was going for a job interview. They hope they can be in my favor if ever I strike it big...
"It's all just a big, boring circus show."
In essence, he further explained that in a world obsessed with wealth and success, a new society would inevitably emerge, one driven by materialism and individualism.
Its inhabitants proudly flaunt their self-centeredness, valuing designer labels and luxury cars rather than helping their fellow neighbors.
Egotism and narcissism dominated, empathy was scarce, and interactions were merely transactional.
Amidst the glittering dystopia, the masses were trapped in a cycle of despair, chasing symbols of meaningless flamboyance to fill the void of the present-day meaning of success.
The reality of such a society was that the majority were failures drowning in debt and unmet dreams.
Yet, they were told to persist and continue striving for the elusive. Sold the false hope that one day, they too would break free from the cycle.
Lenny expressed how genuinely tired he was of this vicious, never-ending cycle of this superficial society.
He sought freedom. True freedom.
That was when the stranger lurking in the shadows, spoke, his voice a perfect blend of aloofness and frankness.
"What if I told you there is a way to break free?"
Silent and unsure, Lenny inquired, "And what would that be?"
"Simple, be reborn," the stranger said, his tone possessing a tinge of humor and jest.
"How…?" Lenny muttered.
The stranger's surreal voice, chilling and cold, answered with a hint of a smile.
"Jump."
Time seemed to dilate. The night too, seemed never-ending. Bending down and tightening the knot on his ankle, Lenny smiled.
"True. Very true. Maybe, in my next life, I'll be handed a nicer deck of cards."
Splash…