Chapter 1: Damon Einstein

Damon wished he were rich —

If only he wasn’t so lazy.

He wished for a fancy mansion on the hills —

If only he wasn’t so lazy.

A life wasted in bed, soft pillows and high thread count sheets, spending money as he pleases—

If only —

If only he wasn’t so very lazy.

"BAM!" "BAM!" "BAM!"

"DAMON!"

"DAMON, OPEN THIS DOOR!"

"YOU HAVEN’T PAID RENT FOR TWO YEARS, DAMON! —"

"YOU HAVE TO LEAVE MY HOUSE!"

A young man of sixteen squinted as he was roused from his peaceful nap; one where he dreamt of a life of abundance, fancy houses and flashy cars, a life where he didn’t have to worry about rent or where his next meal would come from.

One where he could sleep as much as he wanted.

This young man, Damon Einstein, had long black curly hair, pale skin that had barely seen the sun, and striking dull blue eyes that appeared listless, just like the rest of his sculpted but gaunt-looking face.

He was tall but looked heavily malnourished, his slender form making the large-size T-shirt he had on look particularly extra-large on him.

His outfit appeared faded from overuse: blue top and black pants that had turned light blue and brown, respectively.

The bed that Damon slept on was compressed beyond measure and lacking a bed frame, almost flat with the ground below; a testament to how much it’s been used through the years.

The room was small, paints peeled from the walls, carpeting just as worn out as the bed, but every other item in the small room appears to have been positioned with thoughts to decorum and order, like the simple round table in the corner that had a ceramic vase on top, and inside a thriving Venus plant, as well as the painting hanging on the left side wall containing a drawing of a peacefully napping Koala.

Meow

The soft sound of a cat came Damon’s side. Next to Damon was a sleeping black cat whose overweight size would provoke a pang of concern in whoever saw it.

As the cat meowed, half-awoken from its nap by the banging on the door, it tugged at Damon’s side with its paw, as if telling him to go quickly and quiet the incessant banging, which was disturbing its sleep, as well as its dreams of swimming in an ocean of unending delicious fish, and the feline company that deservedly comes with such a bounty.

"You go answer the angry man for once, Leo."

Damon muttered weakly at his cat as he forced himself to rise from his bed, dragging his bare feet languidly towards his door.

"BAM!" "BAM!" "BAM!"

"OPEN THIS DOOR, DAMON!"

Damon reached his door and undid the simple door chain lock just enough to see whose outside, with the chain still attached on both ends.

Right outside the door stood a balding, short and portly middle-aged man, wearing a simple white polo, tucked into a pair of neat grey pants.

But what stood out the most was the way the man’s expression softened the moment he saw Damon appear through the door. Quite contrary to his aggressive banging.

"Good morning, Mr. Lee. How may I help you today?"

Damon said politely to the man. At least that was what he was going for, but the perpetual blankness on his face and his inability to properly emote made it hard to tell if he was genuinely polite or simply being sarcastic.

A trait that Mr. Lee whose basically seen him grow up through the years, was quite familiar with.

"Look, Damon—You know I’ve tried—"

"I gave you a lot of time, and I even recommended you to some pals of mine to fix you up with jobs—"

"But Damon—you wasted all the chances I’ve given. Take this and go be productive, Damon—don’t waste this opportunity as well."

Mr. Lee said solemnly as he handed Damon a card.

"This will at least give you something to do and allow you to start paying your rent little by little—or at least feed yourself."

"Look at me, Damon—Look me in the eyes—"

"This is the last good I’ll do for you."

Mr. Lee said sternly to Damon, looking into those dull, listless eyes of his as he then turned and began to walk away, shaking his head.

"Thanks, Mr. Lee."

Damon muttered from behind his door, watching Mr. Lee walk away, a scene that’s become a monthly routine.

Halfway through the small corridor containing two other rooms on both sides, Mr. Lee paused and turned his head back towards Damon, who was still there at the door, and said to him in addition.

"Come over later—"

"Come eat something during lunch. You look like a bag of bones."

Mr. Lee said to Damon before walking out of view and down the staircase to the left.

"Thanks, Mr. Lee."

Damon remarked once, turning his gaze towards the door to the left next to his as if deciding whether or not to go over, before finally deciding not to, as he slowly closed his door and fastened the chain lock back into place.

Damon trudged to the ledge of his fourth-floor window, which was directly overshadowed by the building’s rusty fire escape.

He rested his arms on the ledge, looking out the window at the busy city below. People from all walks of life moving about from place to place, all busy, all eager to get things done.

Damon always felt detached from this world.

Like a stranger looking in.

Fancy cars sped through, men and women dressed in affluent garbs, entering and exiting high-rise buildings belonging to the very one percent of the wealthy echelon of society.

Wealth.

It was convenient. Something he craved because of the type of person he knew he was.

Damon reclined his head, looking at the sky above, where birds chirped and flew about freely; and there, not too far off in the distant sky, the gleaming lights of two luxury jets shone against the background of bright daylight as they took off in different directions. It was a familiar sight, as this building where he lived was just a stone’s throw from the only private airport in the city.

"If only we could be so rich and own a private jet like that someday—"

"Wouldn’t that be cool, Leo?"

Damon spoke to his cat, who at some point had wandered over to the ledge of the window, and now lay purring on Damon’s arm as he gently caressed the soft fur of his back.

"Right? I am glad you agree too." He added fondly, gazing up at the fancy flying jets.

Damon Einstein was dealt an unfair hand coming into the world.

He wasn’t just born lethargic to most activities that involved the use of physical muscles; he also struggled with the ability to emote or clearly express his feelings.

From when Damon was just a child and developed his sense of self, all he wanted to do was sleep.

Sleep and just take things easy. Never having to worry about anything, and solely focus on sleeping and resting.

Was it normal?. From the view of others, it wasn’t. However, it felt like the most natural thing in the world to him.

But there was a problem with this congenital need of his—

Damon Einstein was born into a poor family.

Damon’s father, Henry Einstein, was a passionate musician who chased his dreams right until he was way past his prime, and since he invested his time into nothing else, he was forced to settle into the life of a roadside bootblack.

His mother, who also chased her passion of becoming a successful businesswoman before giving up, later settled into the career of a local seamstress.

Damon had no siblings, but he alone was a massive burden to his parents, who could barely keep afloat, since all Damon ever did was sleep through life.

Damon’s parents had always known that their child was different from others.

There was that chilling emptiness to his expression, which only changed in rare cases, and also the fact that he wanted to do nothing else other than sleep. This realization was simply unacceptable to a family that was barely making ends meet.

Through the years, his parents tried their hardest to alter Damon’s inherent nature by assigning him small tasks to do at their place of work, but it all failed as the young man simply couldn’t keep his eyes open for too long, or care enough about anything other than sleeping.

Only when Damon sleeps does he feel alive. The real world around him became more of a waking dream as time went by.

When Damon was about to turn sixteen, and he remained exactly the way he was, his parents finally had enough.

They concluded that Damon needed to experience a drastic change. He needed to have the rug of comfort pulled from underneath him for his laziness to be cured.

And the best method was to leave him to survive on his own.

So, one faithful day, when Damon was blissfully asleep as usual in the single room they all shared, both his parents packed up their luggage, left Damon a note, and disappeared into the night.

When Damon woke to find that his parents had run off, he realized that he was in big trouble going forward.

He knew more than anyone else that he couldn’t change his nature; and he wasn’t that keen on changing himself to begin with. But now, he would have to fend for himself.

After his parents abandoned him, Damon slept for exactly three days, hoping that his parents would return and announce to him that it was some type of prank—

But he soon realized that he was wrong. They weren’t coming back.

After sleeping for two more days and going through the last of the supplies his parents left behind, Damon was left with no choice but to go look for some work, so he wouldn’t die in his sleep from lack of nourishment.

Mr Lee was a huge help in this regard.

However, because Damon slept at least six hours out of every eight-hour shift he was assigned for work, he was always fired in less than a week of securing any job.

Still, his parents’ decision did cause a change in Damon, as he had to find a new job almost every week, causing him to put in the most effort he’s put into anything in his life.

But as time passed by, the number of places Damon could apply to dwindled to nearly zero as they all knew about him already, and he was too lazy to go anywhere outside his immediate environs to seek a job.

Mr. Lee, the owner of the building where Damon now stayed alone, was a very kind man who not only recommended places that were still willing to take someone like him in, but also invited Damon once in a while to come share a meal whenever he saw Damon was looking particularly frail.

It’s been nearly two years since Damon began to live this way, and during that time, he had also adopted a black cat who had wandered into his room on its own through the fire escape.

The cat, whose name was Leo as he had gotten from its collar, was becoming just as lazy as Damon—however, unlike Damon, who found it hard to feed himself, Leo was different in the sense that, though he was lazy too, he still knew his way around the neighborhood and was able to feed himself for free. Something Damon was always envious of. Leo also makes sure to eat more than half of whatever food Damon manages to bring home.

Mr. Lee comes around occasionally whenever he notices Damon was sleeping in for an unusually long duration of time, and pretends he’s come to ask for his rent, but Damon knew he was just worried about him.

It’s been almost a week now, and Damon has had nothing meaningful to eat. He had been able to endure it because whenever he slept, he barely felt the pangs of hunger, and he slept most of the time.

"Mr. Lee is nice, right, Leo?"

MEOW

"Glad you agree as well."

"Hey, Leo—"

"You think there is a version of reality out there where my family never left me, they are wealthy, and I don’t have to live through such struggles?"

"Yeah—neither do I."

"But I wish—"

Damon muttered as his dull eyes drifted to the skies, past the fancy jets, and straight at the blinding golden sun.

"I wish in my next life that I am born into enough wealth to cater to my every need."

The cat purred, rubbing his chubby body against Damon’s arm as if in consolation.

Damon smiled because Leo was never one to be so considerate about his feelings. So, it made him quite happy to see Leo appear to console him.

"Thank you, Leo."

Damon said as he weakly massaged the cat’s fur, looking out the window at the large private jet nose-diving straight at him.

"Um—Is that supposed to fly this way?"

MEOW

BOOM!