Lavrick Ember was only sixteen when his abusive father died, overdosing on drugs as usual. His mother finally escaped the nightmare of her marriage, remarrying and starting a new life without a backward glance.
She didn't take Lavrick with her—not even a word of explanation. "You're old enough now," she had said coldly, "it's time we part ways and find our own lives."
And just like that, Lavrick was left alone in the world. Homeless, directionless, and broken, he had no idea where to go or what to do.
For a week, his mother allowed him to stay and feed himself, until her new husband grew tired of the boy's presence.
So Lavrick left, stepping into the cold, indifferent night, wandering like a stray dog with no home, no warmth, no purpose.
The world seemed to blur around him. He didn't notice the traffic lights, the busy street, or the approaching car until it nearly struck him.
"Hey, kid! Have you lost your mind? Watch where you're going!"
The voice was deep, sharp—but Lavrick couldn't focus. He froze, too weak and broken to even step back.
The driver got out, adjusting his slightly wrinkled suit, frowning at the scene. The car was small, modest—secondhand, but freshly polished. And the owner of the car, was a younger Mayhem Knightglens, just starting out, proud of his first purchase, and already asserting his presence on the world. His eyes fell on the boy standing trembling in the street: thin, ragged clothes torn and dirtied, black hair falling over his eyes like a curtain, hiding everything, yet somehow exposing his fear and fragility all at once.
"Hey, you okay?" Mayhem asked, noticing the boy's distant, vacant stare.
"What are you doing out here in the street?" he continued, stepping closer.
"I wanted to... die," Lavrick said quietly, the words hitting Mayhem like a punch.
"Hey, are you crazy? You're way too young to be thinking like that. Where are your parents?"
"I don't have anyone," the boy replied, his voice flat and hollow.
Mayhem paused, a flicker of understanding crossing his face. He chuckled quietly to himself—he knew all too well what it was like to be abandoned, to have life dealt with a cruel hand.
Before he could say anything more, the boy's stomach growled loudly, cutting through the tense silence.
"You're hungry, how long has it been since you've eaten?" Mayhem asked, concern deepening in his voice.
"A week maybe," Lavrick replied, still absent-minded, his eyes distant.
Mayhem felt a pang in his chest. "Hey, kid. What's your name?"
The boy didn't answer.
Mayhem smiled gently. "Good. Your mind's still sharp—you shouldn't tell your name to a stranger. That's smart. But come with me."
Surprisingly, Lavrick simply nodded, as if agreeing that staying alive, even under a stranger's care, was better than nothing.
Mayhem led him to his car, helping him inside.
As he drove, he glanced at the boy sitting stiffly, staring blankly out the window. Mayhem rolled it down to let the cold, fresh wind brush against his face. "You're smart enough not to give your name yet you'll get into a stranger's car," Mayhem said.
"Because I don't care, no one cares if I disappear. Might as well just leave the world," Lavrick muttered quietly.
Mayhem let out a long sigh, forcing a small, reassuring smile. "Not tonight, kid. Not on my watch." He drove toward his friend David's pizza shop, a modest but busy place, knowing that at least here, Lavrick would have a safe spot, some food, and a little warmth—a place to start again.
Mayhem ordered a medium-sized pizza, a side of fries, and a cold Coke for Lavrick. The boy stared at the food, his eyes wide, unsure where to begin.
"Eat it. It's free and harmless," Mayhem said softly. The moment the words left his lips, Lavrick practically devoured the meal like a starving wolf—no hesitation, no shame—just pure hunger finally satisfied.
Once Lavrick was done, Mayhem walked over to David. "Hey, listen. This kid's still young. Give him a job at your shop and a safe place to stay. And make sure he doesn't get assigned anything dangerous or risky until he's grown."
David glanced at Mayhem, then nodded, understanding the seriousness in his friend's tone.
"Don't worry. He'll be in safe hands," David reassured.
Meanwhile, Lavrick, now full, walked over to Mayhem. He looked up at him, hesitant. "How much was the food? Thanks, but I, I can't pay you."
"It was twelve dollars," Mayhem replied lightly, "but like I said, it's free. You don't need to pay. I've got you a job and a place to stay. Work hard, study, and live a better life. Don't even think about dying again." His voice was firm, yet caring.
Lavrick looked down, fidgeting. "Why? It's not like I have any reason to live for."
"Idiot," Mayhem said, shaking his head, "just live for yourself. Find a reason to keep going."
Lavrick almost pouted, a tiny frown forming on his lips.
Mayhem crouched slightly, meeting his gaze, and added gently, "How about, you live for me?"
Lavrick blinked, lifting his gaze to meet Mayhem's properly for the first time. His eyes widened, sparkling as if he were seeing Mayhem's face in full for the first time. He looked so handsome, so alive, with a quiet strength and kindness that seemed almost unreal.
Lavrick had never seen anyone like him—never a face so striking, yet warm.
"Huh?" Lavrick muttered, caught between confusion and awe, mesmerized by the man standing before him.
"Live for me," Mayhem said, a teasing lilt in his voice, "maybe to pay me back for the food you ate for free. You can do that, right?"
At that moment, Lavrick felt something stir in his chest, a warmth he hadn't known he could feel. His heart seemed to flutter, and a thought struck him sharply: living until now hadn't been pointless. Had he died earlier, he would have never met this man, never experienced this care, this kindness, this spark of something he could finally call a reason to live.
A small, unsteady smile tugged at Lavrick's lips. For the first time in years, he felt, hope.
Mayhem didn't just give him a place to stay or a job—he gave Lavrick everything. Stability, care, and, most importantly, a reason to live.
From that day on, Lavrick's world simplified: live, work, and survive, all for Mayhem. But life was cruelly practical, and after that night, Lavrick never got to see Mayhem again. He only heard whispers from others—bits and pieces about Mayhem's relentless grind in the business world, the long hours, the battles fought alone.
Each story ignited something in Lavrick: admiration, respect, and obsession.
Determined to match the man who had unknowingly saved him, Lavrick worked harder than ever. He saved every penny, learned every skill, endured every hardship.
The first thing he bought with his own money? A phone. And the first thing he did with it? Search for Mayhem.
He devoured every piece of information, from news articles to business profiles, learning about Mayhem's life, his struggles, his successes.
Every detail anchored Lavrick's devotion; he realized, with absolute certainty, that he had been living for this man all along. He hadn't survived by chance—he had survived to meet Mayhem again. He never imagined that one ordinary pizza delivery, at the apartment of a rich and busy man, would make his lifelong dream collide with reality. He didn't even know it was Mayhem's apartment, not until the door swung open that fateful day.
Lavrick stood frozen, utterly stunned, his world spinning as he saw the man who had haunted his dreams all these years—Mayhem. More handsome, more radiant, more alive than anything he had imagined.
Every detail of him seemed impossibly perfect, and Lavrick's heart skipped, thrummed, and fell all at once.
This was the moment he had waited for all his life. There was no way he could let it slip away. Every instinct, every ounce of his being, told him to get close, to stay close, to claim even the smallest piece of this man's world for himself.
He didn't need Mayhem's love—he only needed to exist beside him. To see him, to breathe the same air, to serve him in every way possible. Lavrick was ready to devote himself completely, as a servant, a companion, a shadow—this life, and every life to come.
And then, surprisingly, Mayhem gave him more than he had ever dared to hope for. A life shared, a bond that went beyond servitude, a place beside the one man who had become his reason to live.
Lavrick's soul, mind, and heart now belonged entirely to Mayhem.
Every thought, every action, every heartbeat was devoted to keeping Mayhem safe, happy, and cherished. Nothing—no obstacle, no past, no fear—could ever stand in the way of his devotion.
Forever, he would serve, protect, and love Mayhem, with every part of himself, for as long as life allowed.