This me, I mean, almost... That's when I have time to get ready and produce myself.

As you will be here for a while, let me introduce myself and tell you a little about my story from the beginning.

I've lived here in Morro da Piedade since I was born. My mom was from here. She was a beautiful and lively woman, but since my dad died of cancer when I was three, she changed. She would leave me with my grandmother and spend days away from home, partying and clubbing. Until one day, she showed up pregnant by a married and rich man from the south side, who didn't want to acknowledge her or the babies - yes, they were twins. The boys were born when I was five. My grandmother, who took care of everyone since my mother never stayed home, she continued her life of craziness, drugs, drinking, and sex, looking for something or someone, I don't even think she knew what it was.

As a result, my mother became addicted to drugs and made our life a living hell. I was tired of coming home from school and seeing her prostituting herself in broad daylight in the alleys without an ounce of shame or dignity. I would drag her home unconscious after she spent days on end drinking. I stayed with her in the hospital after she was beaten by "clients" or drug dealers from the drug den, and sometimes by the wives of the guys from the hill. That was my entire childhood. Everyone knew my mother, "the junkie from the street of the store." That's what they called her.

My grandmother took care of me and my brothers. She used her retirement pension and my late grandfather's pension, but even so, it wasn't enough. She washed clothes and did any odd job she could find, but sometimes my mother would steal money from her to buy drugs, and things would get ugly for us. But as much as I insisted, she wouldn't let me help. She wanted me to study and become a doctor, which had always been my dream.

When I was sixteen, I was at school when they sent for me. I thought it was another one of my mother's stunts, but it was actually my grandmother. She had suffered a heart attack and didn't make it. At the time, I buried my grandmother thanks to the charity of neighbors who came together and helped me.

My mother showed up five days later. She was high. She came back and stayed until she got better. When she learned of my grandmother's death, she disappeared again, and I never saw her again.

A few weeks later, one of the leaders of the drug den came to tell me that she had been caught, tried, and sentenced for debt and theft by the court of crime. She was dead and there would be no body to watch over or bury. You can judge me, but I breathed a sigh of relief because I didn't know where I was going to get the money to bury another one.

I dropped out of school and got two jobs: one during the day at the supermarket from 7:00 am to 5:00 pm, and at night from 6:00 pm to 12:00 am at a snack bar.

My grandmother's sister lived next door to us on a plot of land with several rental houses. She took care of the twins for me to work. It was difficult and tiring. At first, I cried a lot out of longing and sadness for the injustices of life. But then I realized that this was not going to get me anywhere, so I decided to keep hope that one day everything would get better, and do my best every day.

You might think my brothers love me. Actually, our relationship is difficult. They have a lot of trauma that I didn't know how to deal with. They don't understand their own reality and blame me for not being able to give them what they deserve.

My brothers are gifted, both of them. They have above-average intelligence, but their arrogance and pride are even greater. They won scholarships to a private school and several extracurricular schools. And I try my best to keep up with their expenses at these schools: English, computer science, swimming, etc...

Because they are intelligent and cunning, they think they are much better than the people here in the slum, including me, and they treat everyone with indifference. I know they suffer prejudice for living in the favela and studying in the south side, so they do to the kids in the favela the same thing they do to them there in the wealthy areas.

I've tried everything for them to understand that this is wrong and that we shouldn't be like this. Feeling proud of yourself is great, but it doesn't mean, nor does it give us the right, to humiliate people who are different from us. But they don't give me an ounce of attention, and they dream of the day when their rich father will come and get them to live with him in the south side.

They are applying for a scholarship at the university. I know they will get it, and I will have to work twice as hard to keep them in college for these six years. They are both going to study medicine, which is what I always wanted. I will save the tuition money, but everything else will still be on me.

These are the twins, Raul and Rael. Although they are a pain in the neck, I love them very much. They are my only family now.

I still work in the same places, but at the snack bar, I work in the kitchen, and at the market, I work in the warehouse, unloading boxes during the day and washing dishes at night.

Thanks to all these years working, I've learned to do a little bit of everything. Then I had a crazy idea. I took out a loan with my boss at the market and bought a food trailer. I'm going to sell açai on the weekends to supplement my income and keep my little rats in college. I'm excited about this new job.

My best friend Lorena, who is always by my side, gave me the biggest support. She is the only one in this world who understands me, who knows everything about me and supports me. Without her, I wouldn't have the emotional structure to endure what I've endured these past few years. She's my sister, a piece of me that walks around with a frown on her face.

This is Lory, a cutie... Looks like she's going to bite you, and she really will if she has to. But now, off to a new job, I feel like it's going to be a success!

...

Red Frank, that’s what the aunties here in the favela call me to scare the kids...

“Behave, or Red’s gonna get you!”

Being feared doesn’t bother me, I earned my reputation; after all, no one gets to the top and stays in the crime game by being nice. I learned early on that you either rule or are ruled, and I wasn't made to obey anyone.

My father was a drug dealer, worked for the former boss of the favela, he taught me a lot about life in crime, it was just him and me, my mother left when my father joined the gang, she didn’t want to be a gangster’s moll, but he wouldn’t let her take me, and so he raised me.

My parents were from the South, of German descent, they came here to try to make a better life, but it didn’t work out, and to put food on the table the only solution my father found was to join the faction.

After my mother left when I was ten, my father always told me that no woman truly loves a man who lives in crime, that you can’t trust a woman who accepts this life, they’re all lying and just want the money and the privileges we have.

My father wasn’t affectionate or anything like that, but he did what he could with what he had, from the age of fifteen I would go with him to the drug dens, and I learned to make the runs in the favela. Samson, the former owner of the favela, always said I had a future, and he was right, because I’m here, owner of this whole damn place!

I took over the favela after Samson went down during a raid, they killed him, my father and seven of our men, the rest were arrested. I didn’t even wait for the funeral, I took over the favela right away, and it was with bullets, lots of bullets. I wasn’t going to risk letting the favela fall into the hands of strangers.

I’m not going to play the nice guy, a big part of it was ambition, wanting to be the boss, have power, money, luxury and women of course. But I also didn’t want my people to suffer, Samson was bad for the people, but he wasn’t exactly a saint either, he did nothing to improve the lives of the people.

I wanted to rise in the ranks, make money and earn respect, even fear from people, I wanted a car, an expensive motorcycle, a nice house, good food and drink, parties and everything else I wanted, but the people would be treated well. I lived down there, I walked the alleys, I know what these people are going through, and I’m going to do what I can to help.

Our faction has rules, and no one is forced to join, but if you do, you have to follow the rules, obey or die, simple as that.

Everything in this bitch goes through me, I’m judge, jury and executioner, my word is law. I solve any problems that arise in the community, I help if needed and punish when deserved. People know they can talk to me or my brothers if something is wrong. So besides being feared, I am respected, I’m a criminal, damn it, but I’m a man of my word!

I’m not one to show emotion, I don’t remember crying again after my mother left. I only smile when I’m with my buddies, and I’ve never said “I love you” to anyone, nor do I intend to. My friends call me “Fridge”, because they say I’m cold. But I just don’t have the patience for that kind of stuff, that’s all.

I have four right-hand men here in the favela, my brothers who have been with me since the time we were just kids. There’s Sledgehammer, Robson, Little Marcel, and Juba. They would die for me and I for them.

But my closest is Sledgehammer, we kind of have a connection, you know, the things we went through, the things we did, it brought us closer together. That’s why at twenty-eight years old, he’s second in command of the favela.

I wake up early, today is an ordinary day, but I feel strange, a kind of tiredness, a boredom, as if every day were the same, I don’t like this shit, it feels like something is missing.

I get out of bed and go straight to the shower, I sleep naked anyway, I take a shower, get dressed as always, jeans, black tank top, flip-flops, my gold chains, the basics...

I go downstairs, turn on the coffee maker and make my coffee, here I only have coffee, I eat out so I don’t make a mess, I live alone, even though the place is big, I don’t like anyone up in my business, the only ones who come here are my friends, for barbecues, parties, that sort of thing, we do everything at the court or somewhere else, my house is my refuge, my sacred place.

I go down to the main drug den, before six in the morning, when at seven the mules start arriving to do the night shift handover.

By nine in the morning, I’m done, I meet up with the guys and we discuss what needs to be taken care of and what we’re going to do next week, crazy Friday. Time flies, it’s already noon, we had lunch at the den. I spent the rest of the day meeting with people and collecting debts, when seven o’clock rolled around, I called the guys to have dinner at Seu Juarez’s diner, but Aline, Juba’s wife, cooked us a feast at their place. We left, Sledgehammer rode in the car with me, Little Marcel with Juba and Robson on his motorcycle as always, more isolated.

As we drove through the street, the hookers almost jumped in front of the car, horny as hell. Sledgehammer enjoys all the attention, I liked it for a while, now I’m over it, I know it’s all fake, so it lost its appeal. Doesn’t mean I don’t get laid if the girls are up for it, if it lands in my lap I’ll take it.

Dinner was great, Aline is a hell of a cook, I almost made myself sick. We chatted a lot, but no shop talk or cell phones, that’s Mrs. Aline’s rule.

I hung out for a while, and then I took off, I’m beat.

I passed by the street with the gas station and saw an açai place, I thought it was cool, I love açai and this one is close to home, I didn’t stop because I’m still full from dinner, I’m going straight home to play some video games and get some sleep.

Tomorrow will be better, there’s a dance, I’m gonna drink, get me a girl and have some fun with my boys.

Noah

My first day at the açai trailer was a success! I sold much more than expected, and people loved the toppings I served. I also prepared some açai vitamin options, which were well received.

I'm so happy and excited. I closed the trailer yesterday after midnight. Since the trailer is in front of my house, I just had to close it up and store the tables and chairs in the backyard. I'm looking forward to opening again tonight. Besides working and making money, I have fun and meet new people. I'm loving it.

As soon as I wake up at 5 am, I make the little rats' breakfast and wake up the cuties to catch the bus because their school is so far away. After they leave, I tidy up the kitchen and get ready for my first job, which is at the market.

As soon as I leave the house, I realize something is wrong. I don't see the chairs in the backyard. I run to the front of the house and see the trailer door broken into. My heart broke into a million pieces, and despair took over me. My God, what am I going to do? I have two loans to pay, one at the market to buy the trailer and another at the diner to equip it, and on the first day, I get robbed.

My God, how am I going to pay this debt? What do I do? None of the neighbors saw or heard anything, or at least they didn't want to tell me. With nothing I could do at the moment, I had to go to work. I told Lorena what happened, and she said she would help me figure it out on my lunch break.

The morning passed slowly, and I was distressed, thinking about how unlucky I am. I must have been terrible in another life because, oh boy, fate has it in for me!

Finally, my lunch break arrived, and when I left the market, I saw Lorena on her motorcycle waiting for me. My friend works at a tattoo studio. She's still learning to do tattoos, small ones for now, but what she really does is piercings.

I got on the bike, and she didn't tell me where we were going. That is until I almost had a heart attack when she stopped in front of the main drug den in the slums.

"Lorena, for God's sake, what are we doing here, woman?"

"Calm down, I told you we were going to solve it, didn't I? Trust me." She was braver than I was, that's for sure. She didn't lose her posture, walked upright with a firm gaze, and asked to speak directly to Ruivo.

He was very dangerous, but they said he was fair, so coming here to talk to him wasn't a bad idea. The guy who was at the door went in to talk to Ruivo, and Lorena's phone rang right after. It was her boss yelling at her because she forgot about a client who was there waiting for her to get a piercing. When she saw I was terrified of being left there alone, she quickly calmed me down.

"Nono, relax. Just tell them what happened, tell them your story, and they'll help you. They may be gangsters, but they have rules, remember?"

"I always see this Ruivo around. He never smiles and always has a frown on his face, like he's angry all the time. He scares me a lot, Lory."

"Stay calm, and just be yourself. It's going to be alright. Call me as soon as you leave here... Love you, babe."

"Love you too."

She left, and I was there waiting. When I was about to give up and run away, the door opened, and the kid told me to come in.

"Hey, where's the hottie who was with you?"

"She went to work, she just gave me a ride."

As soon as we got to one of the rooms in the house, he knocked on the door, opened it, and let me in. I walked in and saw the infamous Ruivo, sitting behind a desk with a cigarette in his hand, staring at his phone. There were four other men there with him, and they were all looking at me.

At this point, I was desperate. The man looked up and stared at me with those green eyes, and my legs almost gave out. He's handsome, handsome, and terrifying.

"Well, kid? Spit it out, what's going on?"

"Yo-you see..." Damn, terrible time to stutter! "I was robbed, sir! I opened an açai trailer in front of my house, on the street by the gas station. I opened yesterday, but this morning I saw that everything was gone."

"Hmm, and are you a junkie? Do you owe us money, or someone from the slums? This could be payback." Ruivo spoke impatiently.

"Look, sir, I'm 22 years old, and I've lived here since I was born, and this is the first time I've ever set foot in a drug den. I don't use anything, and I don't owe money to criminals." I saw him looking at me intently. I needed him to help me get my stuff back, so I took a deep breath and continued. "I've been working since I was 16 when my grandmother died and left me taking care of my twin brothers and my drug addict mother. My mother died too, so it's just me and them. Even though I work my butt off at two jobs, the money is still not enough. My brothers are going to college this year, and I need to pay for their rent and food there, plus books and other things. That's why I took out a loan with my bosses to buy that trailer and sell açai to supplement my income. You can check it out, I'm not a bad person, I just need help to get my stuff back and get back to work. I was told you are fair, I never came here to bother you or cause trouble, but now I really need help."

By now I had lost my composure, my eyes were filled with tears, my face red, showing all my tiredness, frustration, and sadness. I don't want to play the victim, far from it, but this outburst made me think about how sad, tiring, and lonely my life is. I didn't come here to beg for pity, I just want justice.

Ruivo seemed convinced, looked at me with an unreadable expression, as he always had a frown on his face. But then he looked at me and held my gaze with a nod.

"Juba, find out who the bastard was. I told you I don't want any stealing in my territory."

"Hey, kid, don't worry, by this afternoon, your stuff will be back where it belongs. Give Klebim a list of everything that's missing and leave it with us, we'll take care of it."

He spoke with such confidence that it was like he really did have everything under control, and I think he actually does. I couldn't hide my smile. I was happy to be able to work again.

"Thank you, sir, thank you so much!"

I left there all smiles and relieved. This man is truly just. He looks like a Greek god, like the ones in the books, so handsome he doesn't even look real. But as always, he's straight. Even if he wasn't, with the crappy life I have and the appearance of someone who hasn't slept in a month, I'm sure I wouldn't catch his eye.

I went back to work calmer, but every time I closed my eyes, I saw those deep green eyes that seemed to pierce right through me. Ah, it doesn't hurt to dream, I can't have him, but I can dream...