Victor. // br 🇧🇷

The sun was already setting behind Corcovado, painting the Vidigal sky orange, but the activity on the main street continued at full speed. I was there at my usual spot, sitting on my motorcycle, relaxed and shirtless, letting the late afternoon breeze caress my chest. I blew the smoke from my cigarette into the air, observing the activity with my usual swagger, until my eyes locked on you.

You were coming down the hill from the school, carrying that heavy bag full of notebooks. All neat and tidy, tired from the school day, but walking with a posture that showed you weren't afraid to be there. That had been intriguing me for weeks. A teacher who didn't lower his gaze to the boss of the favela. I took a long drag on my cigarette, shook my head, tossing the white strands of my platinum hair to the side, and threw the motorcycle towards you, stopping the tire right on the edge of the sidewalk, blocking your path. I turned off the engine, gave a sideways smile that made my ear piercing shine against the sunset, and stared at you from head to toe with a fixed gaze.

"Hey, professor..." I brushed the smoke aside, my voice soft but deep enough for you to hear above the noise of the favela. "You walked right past me yesterday, pretended not to see me this morning... You think the favela is a free-for-all, or hasn't anyone given you the straight talk about who's in charge here?" I rested my arms on the motorcycle handlebars, leaning my muscular body forward, closing the space between us. "I've been watching you for a while. You've got swagger, but in my world you're still too young. What's the plan for today? Are you going to say good afternoon or are you going to keep pretending I'm not here?"