Salvar glanced at the mirror and looked at his youthful face. It was clean unlike the scar in his previous life that ran from his left eyebrows to his cheeks.
His hair was neatly shaped in a fine buzzcut, and on his ears, gold ring earrings from them.
On the table before the mirror, his wallet was laid above. He took the olive colored leather in his hand and opened it.
The first thing he saw in the wallet was his niece's passport sized photo. A cute little baby with a charming smile, eyes sparkling with innocence.
Salvar took a deep breath as he stated at the photo. As devastation dawn upon him.
He immediately shoved the wallet into his pocket and went out the common room.
As soon as he set his foot outside the door, Salvar was surrounded by several men waiting impatiently outside the room, and they began to rush inside the room, pushing him out of the way.
He blinked with confusion, as the heap of tired thugs entered the room. He looked at their backs and recognised few of his comrades.
But he didn't had time to talk with them, so he walked towards the exist of the building.
Climbing up the stairs, he was welcomed by the warm sunlight that he hadn't seen for God knows how many years.
Salvar took a moment as he breathed in the fresh air above the basement.
"For the fuck sake," Salver walked towards his cruiser motorbike and touched the metalic tank and the leather seat before he said with delight, "For the fuck sake, I am back, my love."
If Salvar could, he would have kissed it. But he can't, with his 35 years old soul in his 23 years old body.
"Salvar,"
Salvar turned his head and looked for the person calling him.
It was George.
Upon seeing his face, Salvar involuntarily cringed away. He was taken back while his skin crawled with anxiety facing this monsterous figure from the past.
"Why are you acting like you have seen a ghost, mate?" George chuckled as he approached the other figures.
Why do all of this bitches decided to appear on the same day?
As if confronting Damon wasn't bad, talking to George was worse.
Salvar took a step back and replied, "I am going through a fucking headache. Leave me alone."
George was used to Salvar behaving distant, hence he dismissed Salvar's indifference and rested his hands on Salvar's shoulder.
But Salvar on the other hand, without the control of his movements, took George's hand and twisted it behind back.
In his previous life, George was the closest and the longest friend he had until...
"Don't fuck around me, asshole."
He pushed George with additional force and walked towards his motorbike and without giving the later a chance to speak, he accelarated his bike and went away from the area.
Soft wind brushed against Salvar's pristine skin, while distant birds flew away in triangular pattern far away in the sky.
The ocean below the bridge danced in waves as he made the way along.
After crossing the bridge, several buildings ran across the street. Crossing few blocks, he finally reached his destination. His home.
Parking his motorbike in the garage below, he took the garage elevator and pressed '15', and crossed his arms as he waited for the door to close
But before the elevator door could close, a black shoe with red bottom sneaked between the door and forbid it from closing.
Salvar lowered his eyes towards the shoes, as he gradually glanced upward, black cargo jeans and a tight red Tshirt came to his view.
And when his eyes looked at the face, Salvar was beyond shock. He was flabbergasted.
Because if his memory was correct, he never remembered meeting Silas before early thirties.
Well, confronting Damon was bad, conversing with George was worse but meeting Silas in the first day of his second life was worst.
Fuck!
From the corner of his eyes, Salvar noticed Silas entering the elevator with heavy steps and press the '35'.
With his arrival, the elevator was smelling like black rose, and the perfume scent was bothering Salvar.
He cornered himself and kept himself safe distance away from the man beside him.
But too bad, the hell of craftsman decided to polish the inner surface of the elevator till it was shining like a mirror and reflecting unnecessary item.
Like, for example, the eyes of Silas that were boring into Salvar through the reflective surface.
Salvar found it harder to keep a poker face as he was battling his inner demon.
Silas, the man who killed him, and whom he wanted to kill was right in front of him but his guts were sweating in fear.
His hands involuntary shook and he dug them into his flesh.
Silas' presence was very loud, his smell, his eyes, his thick blonde hair tied into braids which fell over his shoulder and the signature mole right below his right eye. And it was very well bothering Salvar.
The elevator stopped at the 5th floor and swarm of people heeded inside.
As the crowd grew inside the elevator, Salvar felt the presence of Silas getting heavier.
And at one point, they were standing shoulder to shoulder.
"What is your name?" Silas asked in a low voice.
Salvar turned his head towards Silas direction, and instantly regretted it.
Silas head was leaned towards Salvar's ear, leading their face to be barely an inch apart when the buzzcut guy turned around.
Salvar immediately turned his head away and answered with silence.
The elevator moved above defying the gravity, as people came inside, while some left.
But on the other hand, two odds out of the innocent civilians had different plans.
Salvar felt a metal nuzzle pressed against his tighs.
This fucker.
"I asked, what is your name?" Silas asked, pressing the nuzzle deeper. "I like obedient kid."
Salvar rolled his eyes with Silas' comment. Being threatened on the first was the least ideal circumstances that could have happened, and on top of that, being lectured into obediency annoying as fuck.
Finally, Salvar decided to reply, but with a offending question. "Fucker, come again?"