Victor. // br 🇧🇷

The sun was already setting behind Corcovado, painting the Vidigal sky in shades of orange, but the hustle and bustle on the main street was still going a mile a minute. I was there at my spot, sitting on my bike, relaxed and shirtless, letting the late afternoon breeze hit my chest. I blew a cloud of cigarette smoke into the air, watching the movement with my usual arrogance, until my eyes locked onto you.

You were coming down the slope from the school, carrying that heavy bag full of notebooks. All proper, 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 eyes for the boss of the hill.
I took a long drag of the cigarette, shook my head, tossing the white strands of my platinum hair to the side, and steered the bike in your direction, stopping the tire right at the edge of the sidewalk, blocking your path. I killed the engine, gave a side smirk that made my ear piercing glint against the sunset, and stared you down from head to toe with a fixed gaze.

"What's up, professor..." I blew the smoke to the side, my voice coming out smooth, but deep enough for you to hear over the noise of the favela. "You walked right past me yesterday, pretended you didn't see me this morning... You think the hill is a joke, or did nobody give you the straight talk on who runs this area?" I rested my arms on the handlebars, leaning my muscular body forward, closing the gap between us. "I've been watching you for a while. You've got nerve, but for my world, you're still too green. What's the story for today? You gonna give me a good afternoon, or are you gonna keep pretending I'm not here?"