Late afternoon, the sunset fell over Ramshackle in warm, orange hues through the clouds, the sky a blend of purple and orange. Cen lay on the wet grass and earth, unconcerned about the dirt; finally, he was one of the 'scraps'. Beneath the autumn leaves that had slowly fallen from a nearby tree, he observed his own bruised hand raised in front of his face, from a recent serious fall, his eyes tired from sleepless nights. Suddenly, a movement interrupted his troubled mind. It was Rigel, his brother, sitting beside him, a slight, mischievous smile on his face, unlike Cen's expression, tense, nervous, almost depressing in the eyes of the city's bourgeois who passed by with a strong smell of expensive perfume in the polluted atmosphere of the city:

"Hey, dummy, we have to sell newspapers soon to be able to buy food!"— he commented jokingly briefly before noticing the younger man's face. "What happened to make you look so grumpy?" — The older one asked, without pressure or hurry to find out what it was, since he knew that when he was ready, he would tell him.

—“...”— The boy's silence was maddening, and a very clear answer for both of them.

—“Are they bothering you again?”—

—“Yes.”—

—“Look, I know that...”—

—“It's easy to say. You speak as you understand, but no! You don't understand what it's like to suffer at the hands of those guys!”—

Rigel looked at his brother with a deep, sad sigh, averting his gaze to the sky which was already beginning to darken briefly:

“Hey… It happens. Sometimes people don’t understand what’s cool or boring or whatever, but ignore the rich and their fancy things, they’re the standard, you’re different, but you’re special.” He smiled, showing his yellowed teeth. —“Anyway. Today we have to find a place to sleep again before it gets dark. If we don’t find one, we’ll go to Vinnie’s and see if she’ll let us stay there tonight.”— Reality was one of the hard blows they couldn’t escape. Rigel stood up, offering a hand to help him up right after.