Marc Hatwell

Marc had spend another long evening working on the program asked by the company, the deadline was due in three days, but it shouldn't need more than another day to finish it. He turned off the screen of his computer and left his desk. Only few lights was still on in the office and outside the sun had already disappeared behind the horizon, leaving the place in semi-darkness. The young man, only 27 years old, took his coat and left the building. As he walked out, he said his goodnight to the watchman who answered him by a nod of the head.

Outside, the wind was blowing in his short brown hairs and he shivered a little bit in the chilling night of spring. Looking for his car keys, he heard a woman yelling in the distance. Taking a look he noticed on the other side of the parking lot, a woman in a black mini-skirt, red high heels, fishnet stockings and leopard print corset. She was apparently having a fight with a man in a brown leather jacket and jeans. The fight seemed to getting out of hand, so, without really thinking, Marc went there to stop them.

"Hey ! What are you doing ??" He yelled at the man, readying his fist.

"What ?" Said the man turning his angry gaze to him. "It's not your problem ! Fuck off !"

Marc slowed down, understanding that he might have stepped into a dangerous situation.

"Listen, mate, maybe we can resolve this calmly ?" He asked.

"Fuck off !" The man yelled before throwing his fist toward Marc's face.

The punch was quite obvious and Marc avoided it easily. In his momentum, the attacker lost his balance and tripped on Marc's leg, hitting his head on a car.

"Aouch ! Fuck that hurt !" He shouted.

"Dude, are you okay ?" asked Marc.

"Fuck you !" The man shouted angrily, throwing a kick in his opponent leg.

Marc, already with emotions very high with all the overtime, got an excess of anger and started hitting the guy with his fists. The man yelled unmanly scream of pain and started to run away in panic, to Marc's surprise.

The woman who was clearly a whore - she even had a tattoo with a briefcase with "hooker" written in it, on her shoulder - started to run after him immediately. Yelling a "Come back here, you little shit ! Take off that sticker from me ! Please !" as she was risking to fall with every step she made on her high heels.

Marc was left alone, unsure of what the heck happened, and was about to get back to his car when he noticed a bag on the floor, next to a car. It had superhero stickers and was pretty worn out. Looking inside, there was just a box with stickers in it.

"Strange... the woman talked about stickers, maybe it's that..." He said to himself.

Marc decided to take the bag, there was nothing of value in it anyway and put it in his car. If he find the two of them another day, he'll give it back.

Driving back home, he was feeling a little bit better, his hands hurts, but a lot of his anger and frustration were out. He drove through the city and reached his house. The light were off, his girlfriend was probably already asleep.

Silently opening the door, Marc walked in the house to the kitchen, taking the super to reheat it in the microwave. Turning on the light, he noticed that the kitchen was still a mess, Fanny was probably out looking for jobs and didn't have the time nor the will to clean it. She had lost her job some time ago and had a hard time to find a new one, that's why she understood that he had to do overtime. It was strange for her to have difficulties to find a job, but Marc guessed that was because she didn't want to find herself into another shitty workplace. Honestly, maybe he was making excuses for her, he didn't have the mental energy to really think about it and even less to have a proper talk about it, with her.

Marc finished his part of pizza, which would not help his weight gain his was starting to have. He didn't take time to eat properly and it was starting to show. After putting the dishes in the sink, he headed upstairs and joined Fanny in the bed. She didn't seem to wake up as he slipped under the sheets.

"Hey babe, I made you pancakes !"

Fanny welcomed Marc in the kitchen with pancakes on a plate. Her long brown hairs wrapped in a towel, make up on her face, dressed in a white shirt and jeans, she looked pretty as always. She was also smelling good from the shower she just took.

"Do you have something less caloric ?" He asked innocently.

"Oh, I see..." She said angrily, putting the plate on the kitchen counter. "You can make yourself some toasts or something !"

"Sorry, I didn't want to upset you, I'm just putting on some weight... But forget that, I'll take the pancake, they look delicious." He explained.

He took the plate and sat on the table under the furious look of his girlfriend. Trying to change subject, he spoke.

"I'll probably get a normal schedule tomorrow, do you want to do something ? We could go to the restaurant..."

Fanny calmed down a little bit. And seemed to think about it.

"Yes, why not, Marten's ?" She asked.

"A little bit expensive, but sure, it's been a while."

"Yes !!"

"How goes your job hunt, by the way ?"

"Oh, I have an interview monday to a really nice place... uh... Vivian Jewelry !"

"Great ! I'm sure you'll rock at the interview ! It'll really help financially."

"Yes, that's for sure."

And with that Marc went back to work. As he parked his car, he noticed the bag and looked again at the box. With a closer inspection, he found a note. The paper was talking about the rules of the stickers, which seemed more like a child's game made by a child.

"Stickers affecting the user ?" Marc said to himself. "What kind of horny teenager made up thoses rules ?"

But nonetheless, he took few and headed to work. On the way to his cubicle, he crossed the path of Jim.

"Yo, Marc ! Worked late yesterday, again ?"

"Yeah, I had to finish before that insane deadline, but it's almost done." Marc said.

"Cool ! So, you're up for a beer tomorrow, then ?"

"Sorry, I can't, I'm going to the restaurant with Fanny."

"That girl doesn't deserve you man, you're such a good guy !"

"Ahah, thanks ! ... Hey, Look at what I found !"

With that, Marc stamped a stickers on the arm of Jim as a joke.