"Sir, if you could just let me explain--If you could just let me finish, we could sort this out perfectly well, we don't need to--"

"If you could refrain from patronizing me ma'am, that would be much appreciated."

"But, Sir--"

Theo's eyes slowly opened at the sudden chilly exposure the opening of the door brought. His nose briefly wafted into the soft smell of coconut and flowers that were residing in the even softer pillow his head had been caressing. His momentary appreciation for the angelic feel he received from the bed he lay on was harshly interrupted by a loud voice in his ear.

"What the hell are you doing? Get the hell off this bed," the voice ordered, which caused Theo to instantaneously tear himself away from it.

"Sir, please--" His mother pleaded to the man, but the only action Theo saw necessary to commit was to get his eyes as alert as possible by rubbing away all its sleep.

"Who the hell are you?" He asked groggily, his mind wandering off to the faraway, yet close events to the day before.

"Who the hell am I? Who the hell are you?" The injecting, heavy voice pounded against his eardrums. "I'm calling the police," he continued, as he brought out a phone from his pocket.

"No, no, please don't do that!" Dana begged, looking the man fiercely in the eye.

"For what? We're not doing anything wrong," Theo probed, his head pounding with the furious confusion circulating around it.

"Not doing anything wrong? You've come into my house; smashed up the dishes; made this place an absolute mess; and you've even had the nerve to sleep on-"

"Wait, wait, what are you talking about? I've been living here temporarily," Theo tried to explain, but the eyes belonging to the subject of his words spoke that they did not believe a single word that was scampering out of his mouth.

"Yes, and I am the Prince of Monaco."

"No, seriously, I--um--I was taken in by um--

"No, you weren't."

"Yes, I was. I've been living here for about-"

"No, you haven't. You know how I know? Because I received a phone call yesterday. From the woman renting this house. She informed me that her and her daughter - whose presence in this house I am perfectly aware of - are moving away for the time being."

Theo's organs began to feel as if they were shutting down with the knowledge that had just been casted upon him. "What? What do you mean moving away for the time being?"

"Surely, if you have really been living here, you would know that, no?"

"No, I uh--I--"

"Save it. The woman already told me about you."

"What--What do you mean told you about him? Told you what?" Dana questioned.

"She told me that I shouldn't be surprised if I find a tall, olive skinned young man, with scars littered all over his face attempting to make this his home." Theo's face squinted up at his words, a number of feelings piercing against his veins. "She told me that you're always hanging around here; asking for money; asking for a place to stay. She knew that you would be aware if they were to ever leave, and you would take that opportunity, and get yourself in here."

"What? No, that's not true," the tired young man began.

"Tell that to the cops."

"No, please don't call the cops on my son. He's right. The daughter of the woman you rented this to, she's the one that brought Theo home. She introduced him to her mother, and she allowed him to stay. It's not a lie."

"Like I said, tell that to the cops." His finger tapped on the screen one time, attempting to rise up to tap on it again, before the vexed woman standing just a few feet away from him swiftly knocked it out of his hand.

"You just landed yourself an interview with the police too. How does assault charges sound to you, you druggie?" Theo's eyes shot to his mother instantly, and found himself taking a step back at his vision glazing over the redness surrounding his mother's eyes. He noted how she appeared to be shivering, as if she was cold, but a hefty green jacket was fondling her body.

"We don't need to involve the police in this," a familiar voice barricaded through the room, and not long after, the tall portrait of Robert bounded into the atmosphere.

"My home has been broken into. Things have been destroyed. I've been attacked."

"Look, man I understand, okay? I'm sorry. But, we really don't need to involve the police in this."

"I need to get--"

"How about we just sort this right now, without any additional parties?" He went on. How does a cheque sound to you?"

"A cheque?" The broad man with a surly piece of hair a-top his head almost sang.

"I'm sorry about all of the mess, and all of the confusion. I cleaned up all the broken pieces downstairs, and we will be out of here as soon as I write you this cheque. How does that sound?"

"Well, I mean... Fine. But you're all out as soon as I get it."

"No problem." The nonchalant tone of Robert's voice came to an end as he brought out a wallet from his pocket. In turn, a cheque book momentarily filled between his fingers. "Do you have a pen?"

"Yeah." The abrupt adaptation of facial expressions on the man that only a few minutes ago had propelled himself through the irreproachable door caused a sting in Theo's eyes. The power of money was something that always managed to cause unruly surprise against his organs.

"There you go." The cheque quickly became accustomed to its new owner, as Theo and his mother shared looks of unclassified emotions towards each other.

"Come on, let's go," he continued, carefully taking his hands into Dana's, before halting in his position, and turning his body back to the gainer of some of his riches. "Oh, I almost forgot. If you call this woman a druggie again, I promise you the only pieces of paper you'll be receiving will be receipts for all of the canned foods you'll have stocked up in your kitchen cabinet. Have a nice day dude," he finished with a clutching smile, which was not in tune with the secure scowl that rested on the lessor's face.

The three supposed trespassers of the property made their way downstairs, at which point Theo saw fit to burden the question that had been harassing his mind.

"Mom--"

"I'm fine. I'm fine," she affirmed, her knowledge bordering along what he was planning on asking her.

The fatigued young man paused in his tracks as the prospect of what he was about to do washed over him. He turned slowly to admire the staircase his feet fondled over one too many times; before clasping his vision on the kitchen he once heard his fate being delivered in.

"Theo, come on, man. We've got to go," a paternal tone rung in his ear. He looked up at the man who never once owed anything to him - making his heroic efforts all the more appreciated - but who he now owes everything to.

The door shut prosperously as the three of them headed to the car, but once inside, they all collectively became enclasped in a freeze frame.

"So, what do we do now?" Robert eventually enquired.

Theo tapped harmoniously against the smooth beige material of the chair, his eyes glanced over the inside rear view mirror. He appeared to have stepped into another dimension, his eyes holding no tune to them, but his mind had reached an in depth volume of thought, filled with possibilities.

"Robert... Do you have Facebook?" He finally spoke.

"Uh... Well, I don't really use it, but--"

"Can I use it? Please."

"Yeah, sure."

The moment the phone was placed in Theo's hands, he unknowingly became engrossed in thinking about what he'd been missing out on. He hadn't been able to hold a phone in his hand for months, yet it was touching it that provided him with a foreign feeling.

He peered at the blue surrounding the Facebook app, his eyes wandering over the conscious question that probes mounts and mounts of paragraphs stemmed from hidden desperate emotions, to people who hold more of a care towards the issue mentioned, as opposed to the poor soul mentioning it.

A shrill pang bore into his heart as he began typing the name that involuntarily coursed all of life's unspoken sentiments into him. The first thing that he saw was the exorbitant smile that showcased the intact white pearls that usually shadowed underneath them. The long, sleek, straight black hair - that was only further decoration to the already priceless piece of art that was her face - shone in his eyes, and he had the unmistakable urge to run his hands through it.

"Theo?" He suddenly heard, causing him to snap out of his helpless trance.

"Hm?" He responded, without looking up at the female voice that spoke.

"I said, don't you have a Facebook account?"

"I deleted it a long time ago. I don't like social media," he added, as his eyes fixed on the first comment underneath Eliza's picture. Her best friend had expressed her appreciation for her friend's remarkable appearance; and Theo had silently expressed his gratitude for that same best friend.

"100 Stanton Street!" He called out.

"What?" His mother asked.

"Go to the Lower East Side!"

"Theo, what--" Robert began, as his eyebrows crinkled symmetrically.

"Please, just go. I'm trying to work this out."

Worried side glances were thrown between the two suspicious members at the front of the car, but no further sound was made as Robert switched the engine on. Theo's eyes pierced into the forlorn building for the last time before it was nothing but a distant memory to him.

His breathing became heavier and heavier as they reached each traffic stop, his fingers creating a rhythmic melody on his lap. This is probably why he bustled carelessly out of the car the moment the non parked vehicle stood nearby to the momentary object of Theo's desires.