001 The Assignment

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July 06

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Alex POV

"Don't make friends with targets," George went on.

He was explaining to me the rules of working for him. There was a lot of them. Lots of training, as well.

My name is Alexander Hamilton. I'm 19, fresh out of college. I went and graduated early. Full scholarship and everything. I don't like talking about why, though. Well I guess I'll tell you, reader, because you should probably know, as it foreshadows future behavior.

I am an orphan. My mother died when I was twelve. My dad left before I was born. I had a brother, James, who never contacted me, really. My cousin, Usnavi, who I lived with when my mother died, killed himself when I was fifteen.

When I was seventeen, a hurricane struck the tiny island in the Caribbean I lived on. It had destroyed everything for miles. Everything was just wet and grey and broken. I wrote an essay on it and it got passed around. People on the island who would normally scoff at me, a poor, homeless orphan, were made speechless by my words. It actually gave me a hint of confidence for once in my life.

They raised money for me to move to New York and start a new life here. They got me into a good college that I got a full scholarship to because I was a good writer and I was still poor or something.

After I graduated, my favorite professor, Mr, Washington offered me a room at his place since he knew about my past. I declined about seven times before he essentially forced me. He has a nice house. Bigger than any and every building on Nevis, the island I'm from.

He works at the college, but his side job is quite disturbing. Mr. Washington is a hitman. He kills people for other people for money. He forced me into this occupation as well. Now I'm training to be one.

"And don't fall in love. With anyone, not just targets. It messes everything up."

I nodded and followed him into his office. He gestured or me to sit. "Okay. Now that you know the rules, you know how to use the weapons, know how to hide your crime, is there anything else?" He muttered to himself. He shook his head and pulled out a file folder. He slid it across the desk smoothly.

"This is your first target. Your deadline is July tenth. You have four days to kill this person. Normally, my hitmen get two or three, but they are more advanced. They are the smartest and the best," he said as I watched one tall man dressed in magenta jokingly hump a table. Smartest and best, huh?

He continued, "Do not disappoint me. You will get the consequences," he said sternly. He motioned for me to leave his office.

I quickly walked out and went to my bedroom, upstairs out of the basement.

I sat on my bed and opened the file folder.

JOHN LAURENS

DOB: October 28 (he's supposed to be nineteen, no matter the year)

Sex: M

Eye Color: Hazel

Hair Color: Brown, curly

Address: 226 W 46th St, New York, NY 10036

Phone Number: 867-5309

Occupation: Starbucks (1585 Broadway, New York, NY 10036)

Then it had a picture of him. He had freckles. His hair was so fluffy. His smile made me smile. He just looked so excited, so innocent, so not worth killing. I'm not sure what this feeling is, but I feel warm and tingly.

I moved the first page of details and looked at the descriptions.

The man who wants John Laurens dead is his ex, Francis Kinloch. John got Francis busted for drugs and rape against him. Poor guy. 

Francis wanted revenge for ruining his life.

Welp. I have to kill him.

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A/N

Hello! Welcome to the first chapter of Click, Boom. I hope you enjoyed that first bit. Stuff'll get spicyyyy, donchu worry.

As always, ily <3

-Leia

Also, btw, please follow or read my new story on my new account! I'll be writing more actively on there!



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