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J. F. David
Work in progress
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Chapter 1

Would you like to know what is going through in a sociopath’s mind? Would you like to get acquaintanced with one? How do you know, you aren’t already acquaintanced with one? From the outside, it’s hard to tell who you’re facing. Who knows, maybe there’s already a sociopath in your friends’ circle. Or more than one. Maybe it is you and your friends would be surprised to learn.

According to medicine, sociopathy, just like psychopathy is one instance of antisocial personality disorder, which is severe hardship fitting into society. Typically one doesn’t love, doesn’t feel anxiety and unable to learn. They say, people with antisocial disorder are often aggressive, don’t feel empathy but they can pretend they do, and they can’t feel shame or remorse because of their impositions. Their aim is independence and safety, at all and any cost. Sociopaths biggest weakness is that they can’t place themselves in certain emotional situations, they can’t imagine how it is for others. Therefore they’re generally successful, as they reach their goals without hesitation. Meanwhile these people are well off, often good looking with spontaneous personalities and great communication skills. Although they handle badly monotomy, they’re quick to get bored, feel the constant need of stimulating impulses, which can make them reckless. They are liars, manipulative others, have no self-consciousness, they’re apathetic and can’t control their impulses; they can hide the fact that they only care about themselves very well. People with antisocial personality disorder can perform on the same high level despite their – lack of – feelings, while others perform worse under emotional pressure.

I don’t know what you think of all of this, but I find it not so bad. This way one can be successful at anything, can have a nice job, gain a lot of money, what else is there to want? Of course, it’s a matter of viewpoint. I’m sure there are people who hold other principles, such as family or love above all this. Not to mention that the world can be a cruel, brute place where everyone is selfish and favours their own needs before anyone else’s, even the normal people. I know this with my brain, I’m intelligent, however I can’t understand it, I don’t see the point in it. Why would anyone what to let such sources of problems into their lives, when they can do a favour for them and not care. Well, whatever, it’s their business if they prefer to be masochists.

I guess by now you’ve figured it out, I’m not like others. Scientists say that antisocial personality disorder is a disease, but in my opinion, anyone who agrees is narrow-minded. Of course, I’m aware that some people with APD hurt other people, sometimes even murder, but does nobody think of how many of us with such illness are in a top officer position, let’s say at a corporation that provides jobs within reach of less fortunate people or produce stuff that everyone can afford? If these businesses would become bankrupt without such a leader, it would be quite inconvenient for many. Perhaps these lead officers aren’t concerned with their fellow humans’ fate, only ambitious, but the results are undeniable. The reason I’m writing this is not because my conscience got the better of me, although it may seem like that. The truth is, I like to think, to exercise my brain. Taking multiple viewpoint into consideration, searching for the best possible solution. Though, I imagine other people choose different activities if they can’t sleep at night. And the reason of my insomnia is excitement.

Ever since I can remember, I have been obsessed with information and knowledge. For instance, did you know that none of the multiverse theories take paradoxes into considerations? Or that in traditional Japanese tattooing, certain animals and plants cannot be put next to each other on the skin? Or that tardigrades are practically immortal, they can survive even in outer space? Now try to make up a new, non-existent colour! You can’t, can you? Isn’t the world around us fascinating? My whole head is full of interesting but useless information like these. Of course, there are useful information too, otherwise my subsistence would be endangered. After all, I’m trading information for a living. I’m buying and selling all kind of information. If you pay me enough, I even sell half-truths or misinformation, too. After that, what anyone does with it, none of my concern. If they’d be smart enough, they wouldn’t trust anything coming from another man’s mouth, they’d do the leg-work themselves. Idiots. Humans are wonderful and idiots at the same time. Another unsolved mystery. Damn, now I’m gonna think about this ’till morning.

Every day is the same. People come and go, stare out of their heads, not using their brains. I think they would even believe me if I said an extra-terrestrial war is going on on Earth. Oh, wait.

But how rude of me, I haven’t even introduced myself! My name is Jordan Hunter, I’m 34 years old, 187 cm, 78 kg. May hair is short, brown, eye colour is also brown, and you just believed all of it. Human nature is just like this: trusts naively those who share so basic information as their description of person. However, now it’d be a waste to give my real identity, you wouldn’t believe it anyway. So just call me Jahra, regardless if that’s my real name or not. But if it doesn’t matter who I am, neither where I live or what I do. Though, I already told you the latter. Or it could have been another lie along with everything I wrote down. Well, it really doesn’t signify, does it? I assume, all that reads this just want to relax a bit, not caring if it’s fiction or not.

So then let’s assume that I’m Jahra, I live in a metropolis and I’m brokering information. Let’s also say that this isn’t my full-time job, I can’t just go around telling people I’m a criminal, I have to appear as a normal, working class man, like everyone else. My best friend is a cartoonist, and in the eyes of the world, I’m his assistant. Is it surprising that I have a best friend? I think it’s understandable. I call him my best friend because it is the socially most acceptable term for our relationship. His name is Kaito. Or let’s just call him that. Kaito knows who I am. We’re childhood friends, and he’s always known everything about me. How can I trust him so much? Well, I have to say, if your average person is naïve, he’s at least twice as naïve as others. When we were kids, he set his mind that he wants to help me. I told him, there isn’t anything to be helped, but he didn’t listen. I guess I could worry that he turns against me one day, but I know more about him than he does, so I don’t think I have to be afraid of that. I always keep an eye on him. I do so for the reason that people like me would do him harm, too.

Make no mistake, I don’t pity him or anything, I’m just messing with those who wants to hurt Kaito; I’ve always done this and enjoyed it. Even I deserve some entertainment, don’t I?

Even right now, I’m headed to the office to meet Kaito and one of his hellish editors, a woman named Aoi. She manages the publishing of one of the boy’s manga in a magazine, while she’s working as hard as humanly possible on being a parasite on my bff. Sometimes I let her, waiting for Kaito to learn from it. So far, there’s no success. Other times I screw with Aoi as hard as humanly possible, so she hates me. Let’s say, the feeling is mutual. Though, as far as Kaito is in my charms, she can do nothing. And I’m not planning on leaving the kid soon.

I haven’t even come up with an idea of how to flip Aoi out today, and I have only three stops with the subway until I reach the office. Maybe I’ll hit on her to put her out of countenance. I love to watch people’s frustrated facial expressions. Or maybe I should intervene to make her embarrass herself in front of her bosses? I know, I can be so cruel. Or at least I’m told I can. I’m not so interested in the whole thing or their opinions.

But alas, I have run out of time to think further, I have to depart already, so I’ll just improvise something.

Our offices with Kaito are in a nine story building’s fifth floor. The elevator is jammed as always in the mornings. It’s 9 o’clock exactly when I pass my and Kaito’s offices and enter the meeting room. Kaito is already here, sitting at the table, doodling something. This kid always has a sketchbook and some pencils with him.

'Jahra!' With a huge smile on his face, he jumps up and runs to me. 'Good morning! How did you sleep?' He’s like a puppy.

Considering that he’s an adult, he acts like a teenager. Whenever he looks at me with those huge gray eyes I get the feeling like he can’t see anyone but me. Fortunately I don’t have to put up a façade in front of him, because he drives me nuts and I don’t want to waste my energy on masking it.

'Kaito. You’re radiating as always. Annoying. Get a hold of yourself and once in your life, act worthy of yourself.'

'Worthy of myself?' He repeats what I said, deep in thoughts. 'And what would that be like?'

If I wouldn’t know that his question is serious, I’d think it’s a challenge.

'Like a working person; a serious adult. And stop dying your hair.' Kaito dies his hair dark blue. He says, this way everyone can see that he’s the main character of a story.

'But I’m so young, let me have a little fun.' Even his eyes are smiling. I think instead of Aoi, today my target will be him.

Usually I’m not so stern with him, I even overlook him, but I’m tired now and he’s annoying me.

'Oh, did you read the storyboard I sent you yesterday?' Suddenly he changes the subject.


'And, do you like it? What do you think of the new character?'


'Whaaat?!' His face goes white.

'It’s bad as it is, the whole thing. Aoi won’t let it pass like this.'

'Nooo!' He yells and immediately sits back down to the table, searches for a fresh paper in his sketchbook and starts drawing.

I do this to him often, yet he still hasn’t learned when should he take me seriously and when not. It’s his fault, because he lets himself be fooled.

Three minutes after nine Aoi walks into the room. I wouldn’t say she’s head over heels to excuse herself being late.

'Hey, Kaito! To you too.' She barely barks at me. 'Have you finished what we talked about, Kaito?' She sits next to the kid.

'I’m… sorry but I started it over.' Mumbles Kaito.

'What?!' The colour vanished from Aoi’s face. The show looks promising today.

'Actually, I’d already finished it yesterday, but Jahra says it’s not good, so I just started it over.'

'Jahra!' I could swear I hear growling. 'Why are you stick your nose into others’ business? I will decide if it’s good or not.' She practically shouted my hair off. 'Kaito, please, show me what you finished yesterday.' She turns back to the kid, who’s shaking like jelly, while he hands over a bunch of papers to his editor.

'Aoi! Please, if you don’t like it either, I’ll re-write it right away, all fifty pages.'

The woman digs into the storyboard, sometimes wrinkles appearing on her forehead, while Kaito is watching her every move with paralysed look in his eyes. Meanwhile, I’m having fun in the background.

In a few minutes, she goes through the whole thing and finally sighs in relief.

'Kaito, this is good, you don’t have to re-write it. However, there are a few pages that you could have written slightly differently. For example, when on the twenty-third page the main character runs out of the building…'

I can practically hear the huge stone falling from Kaito’s heart. He listens to Aoi carefully, sometimes arguing with her, but in the end, always nodding to what she says. They marked those few places where has to be changes, and Aoi is already standing up, getting her jacket.

'So, as we talked about it, Kaito. You have to finish the changes by the next time we meet, and if it’ll be alright, you’re done with this draft. Until next time! Bye, Jahra.' She added reluctantly.

The kid swings in his chair with relief on his face and stares out of the window. He’s lost in his thoughts again. Sometimes this happens to him. I kick his chair, which almost makes him fall backwards. Before he could have started whining, I interrupt.

'Go, correct what Aoi requested.'

'Why do you always have to be so negative?!' He jumps up, angrily.

What he said makes me think; am I even able to be so negative? I doubt it, but for some reason he had the impression that I am. Maybe it’s the lack of sleep. Interesting hypothesis…

'Are you even listening to me?' He’s in my face now.


For a few seconds he stares at me irritated, panting, searching for the right words, but in the end, he just turns his back to me and stomps away, shutting the door behind himself loudly.

So today will be one of those days. There are days when, how should I say it, I have bad days. When nothing wants to go the way it should, because people’s whims interrupt the flowing of events.

On these days, I usually focus on one of my other jobs. I think I’ll do that on this day, too.

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