Birds Of A Feather (COMING SOON).

Prologue.

12years ago.

Mumbai, India.

To be fair, it was really not my fault this time.

I was forced into it and I tried to refuse initially, but I really needed the money, so I gave in. Again.

From the way Baba was glaring at me from behind his desk, I knew none of my excuses would help my case this time. I had screwed up real bad.

Mr Irani–who was fondly called Baba by all of us– ran the group home I lived in. He worked his ass off to provide for eight other kids like me, who had nobody to support them, and nowhere to go to. He was our guardian. Our family. Our everything.

"First that bloody fight club and now pickpocketing!?" His angry voice cut through the air like a boom of thunder.

"I swear I wasn't involved in the pickpocketing, it was all them," I mumbled, looking down at my bruised knuckles.

"Why were you even around those kids? I warned you to stay away from them, didn't I? You're twelve years old! You should be at a playground or studying at home, not fighting some low-life thugs for money!"

When I said nothing, I heard him sigh. "That guy you beat up, what was his name?"

"Mayur," I mumbled. "He deserved it though, he is always spewing shit about me, but then he insulted you..." I shook my head and continued, louder this time, "He deserved it."

There was a long silence, before he murmured, "And he was older than you, yes?"

I nodded, sneaking a quick glance at him. "Yes. And I won."

Mayur was older and much bigger than me. But after years of getting thrashed around by grown men, not much scared me anymore.

"Why did you need the money for?"

"I just...just wanted to help you, " I mumbled, my voice quiet.

Suddenly, I could hear his chair slide against the floor, noisily, when he got up and walked over to where I was standing, but I kept my eyes trained on the little hole in my sneakers that had been bugging me for a while.

"Jordan, " he said, his voice now closer to me. "Look at me."

I reluctantly obeyed and he placed a hand on my shoulder.  "I don't need your help in running this place. All I want you to do is build a future for yourself. A safe future for yourself."

"A future away from all of this? What if I don't want that?"

"Listen, baccha, life has been really hard on you, I know that. But you deserve a better future, and you have to work hard for it. These people will only bring you down, and if you keep going down this path you will either end up in a jail or a morgue."

I huffed in annoyance but said nothing. I didn't believe in fate or destiny as he did. I didn't believe in luck. People like us, people who were born in poverty, would never break the chain, things would never 'get better' for us. This little rickety building was my home, and the people who lived here were as close to a family as I could get.

"Jordan!" I heard Baba's stern voice and my head snapped up to him. "Do you understand what I'm saying?"

"Yes." I nodded along, because it was easier that way.

"So, no more fighting and sneaking out without my permission. Got it?"

"But I'm good at it," I whined. "People pay to watch me fight. 'Nothing more entertaining than to watch grown men get beaten up by a young guy' that's what they all say!"