Origin: Hero of Rest

My name is Jonathan D. Picken

And I’m a fashion icon, “Eccentricity Incarnate” they call me, because I’m a majestic fucking wierdo.

My models fucking stormed the runway with the weirdest fucking clothes I can make, and apparently
these connoisseurs think that what I made was, quote on quote: “Peak of Avant Garde”.

They were also fucking impressed that I made my first collection, just 3 days prior hitting the runway.
“Legendary” , as they would describe that, they didn’t know I was stoned out of mind for 2 months
when what I was supposed to do was come up with proper designs and finish them a week before the
actual event.

Then for the next 8 collections, did the same thing. These fools freaking loved it. Then stupid kids started
wearing my stupid designs, then it grew to an occult following.

Singers, Actors, Every-fucking-body was wearing this stupid shirt like it was their favorite. I just laughed
in disbelief.

The clothing label I worked for fucking loved me but they were “kissing my ass” is a better term for it.
Money came in, tons and tons.

My label also smothered me with luxury. They gave me

Other brands offered to take me in, but I… I didn’t bother. Too much paperwork. I couldn’t tell them
that that was the reason though, I just whispered to their representatives some vague lines like: “The
hands of fate won’t let me”, “I love the coffee here”, or when I’m feeling like being a little bit crazy I
would just smoke a cigarette and stare blankly. Fortunately, My Label was smart enough to not let them
near me after the first wave.

Yes, I was living the dream. Even though I had none in the first place. All I ever wanted was to have a
relaxing life, dreams and goals, none of that shit mattered to me.

I studied fashion design in college at a nearby state college because it was just basically drawing and it
was cheaper than studying engineering.

I garnered quite the attention.

Then I quit.

The world was stunned

As well as a CEO of a clothing brand, well… I didn’t really do the paperwork and other stuffs, I just
designed. The real MVP was my senior from where I quit, I hired her as the acting CEO for my company.

Until I sold it to an unattractive, narcissistic, middle-aged-looking, fugly bastard of a conglomerate. He’s

a good friend of mine. I wish he’d just die while choking on some weird Asian food that his personal chef
cooked for him and let me inherit all of his fortune.

I would also be delighted to tell you that I’m the greatest gambler of all time, if being the greatest
gambler meant betting everything you own because you just can’t fucking swallow your ego.
I lost everything… oh well… (shrugs*)

I was always afraid of heights. Yup, ever since I was a child.

Not really proud about it but it would make sense for me to say it right now because, here I stand at the
edge of a creepy old building, one step away from oblivion.

And yeah I just said oblivion, if my asshole of a friend heard my thoughts right now and if he had
telepathic powers then he would say: “Oblivion? What a fucking diva!” Cynically as he hugs his belly and
rock his head back as he let out an annoying “Haaah” every half a second just to emphasize how much
he cares. That’s how I imagine it, if I had a friend like that. Which I don’t.

I almost forgot that I decided to kill myself for a moment there. My thoughts almost caught me off-
guard.

I shuffle my feet and bend over to see the ground where I would fall.

Let’s see…the ground is a back-alley of this old apartment closed off by two parallel fences,

There’s an empty trash bin near the center (maybe I could try to dunk my head there, wouldn’t that be
epic? Lol. Then after I splatter my brains out on that sweet cold asphalt maybe the local wildlife
consisting of sewer rats and roaches or even birds could feast on my rotting corpse)

That’s a pretty stereotypical back alley of an abandoned building I guess…

Aside from that weird looking sigil with a faint yellowish glow…

Hmm… I guess having a 20/20 vision does have its perks aside from being able to brag about it online.

Okay… but I am still determined to kill myself though, no point in being curious now.

I back away from where I bent over about three meters, reach inside my coat to take my suicide note
out, crouched to lay it down.