Lena had called me sweet. Others had called me nice. Was that was I was turning into, a nice guy? Did I want that? Among my old rich-brat acquaintance..., nice had been an invective, and it certainly was not seen as an asset in the world of business. So, fuck yeah, I wanted to be a nice guy. A bit scary to have that for identity though, since it leaves you open to criticism. As an official bastard you just don’t care. You also do not improve. Lena stood close to me – very close to me – and talked. He caught a clean towel from the restaurant manager, took the stairs up to the next floor, three steps at a time, and caught a young, crying girl that jumped into his arms before he walked further into the upstairs restaurant.“Is that...?” Chuck mumbled to himself as he jumped out of his chair. “Hang on!” he yelled as he ran out of the editing bay and into the newsroom next door.Alicia stared, flabbergasted, as her friend and colleague launched out of the room. She looked at the slightly. More

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