To the guy with the guitar

The music of the guy is so nice, you just have to go over and listen. Maybe you can even talk to him. Several people stay for a moment and listen. And some of them even throw some coins in his guitar bag. When he finishes his song, some people around clap their hands before moving along. When you approach him, he gives you a warm smile.

“That was great,” you say smiling, “I never heard such a song before.”

“Thank you,” the musician answers also smiling and offers you some space next to him, “I’m always glad when people like my music. But only very few take the time to talk to me afterwards.”

“Sad,” you mumble, “it’s such a nice place. But I would like to talk with you, if you don’t mind.”

“I would love to,” the guy agrees, “I always take a few minutes break between two songs. To relax my fingers. You can call me Rey, if you want. And what’s your name?”

“Ashley,” you introduce yourself, “well, is this what you do for living? Or rather a hobby?”

“Oh, I would say both,” Rey replies and reaches for a bottle of water in his bag, “I teach music in a community center. They don’t pay much, but I can work with children from poor families who really need my help. And with the donations from my street music I usually can pay for food and rent. I’m not rich, but I’m free and happy. What about you, Ashley? How does a beauty like you live?”

“Well, it’s complicated,” you admit a little uncomfortable, “just two days ago, I lived with my mother in a cheap apartment in another town. I studied and worked part time in shops around. We were not rich either, but we were happy. And our neighbors and friends helped each other like family. But … after some events … I have to stay with my father. He is rich. Very rich. But … I barely know him. I will continue to study soon, but everything here is different. I can rely on nobody and most people seem to be either greedy, perverts or easy victims.”

“I know what you mean,” Rey mumbles sad, “this town … it seems to change for the worse every day. I don’t know why, but people seem to forget that being lucky is more important than a quick fuck or a hand full of money.”

“Yes, I know,” you mumble, “since I arrived in this town, I only met greedy brutes, perverts or their victims. The normal guys I met can be counted on one hand. But let’s not talk about this. Do you mind if I make some music with you?”

“I would really like that,” Rey replies and smiles, “can you sing or play an instrument?”

You are about to answer, when suddenly two huge guys appear behind you. They wear security uniforms of the mall and sunglasses. One has a bald head. They are clearly not here to listen to the music.

“Hey you, fuck off!” one of the guys commands directly, “beggars and whores are not allowed here.”

“I’m a customer you asshole,” you reply and ball your fists, “and he is not a beggar.”

“If you are a customer, you can go inside and continue shopping if you want,” the guy who just spoke, likely the leader, replies unfriendly, “but you fuck off! You scare the customers.”

“Please, gentlemen, let us all calm down,” Rey tries to negotiate and takes a piece of paper out of his bag, “I have permission from the responsible office that I can play music here. And I assure you that at no time will I...”

The brute security guys didn’t bother to let him finish. One of the guys quickly snaps the permission out of Reys hand and rips it to pieces while the other one heavily punches him in the face. Rey scrams in pain and goes down holding his bleeding nose.

“Your permission means shit here,” the leader of the guys hisses and kicks the musician on the ground, “the owners of the mall don’t want you or your silly music anywhere near their customers. And you either fuck off in the next ten seconds or beat the shit out of you gutter rat.”

You can’t believe it. These guys are no guards, they are just thugs. Eric told you, that some shop owners pay the security guards or even police officers to get rid of homeless people or beggars around the mall. And the guys in front of you are clearly such corrupted guards. They ignore official permissions and law just for money and their own entertainment. They even continue beating Rey who just tries to get away from tem. With sadistic joy they just kick the poor musician on the ground who has no chance to fight back or flee. If you don’t do anything, they will seriously hurt him.