Haven.

fuck.

Young hispanic kids in their early 20s running in traffic outside the salon. Cars honking. They disappeared for a second. Reappeared.
Steven went outside to see what was happening, and he was out of eyeshot. Suddenly one ran in our salon. Three were right behind him, trying to follow, and steven blocked him. They banged on the windows, and ran off.
Steven disappeared, and it was me, a female client, her teenage daughter, and this panting guy, trying to catch his breath after running for his life.
He was wearing a shirt from a high end restaurant down the street. He explained to me that he had been in "messed around" as a kid, that he had gone to school, come back, gotten a job, and that these gang members had somehow found him. He was running in and out of traffic to try and get away.  Steven later told me that he had shouted, asking if he could come in and hide, and he had said yes.
I called the police, going on 30 minutes ago. They've never shown.
He sat here for a good ten minutes waiting for his ride that had been fatefully late. I watched him as he kept looking for them to return, as he breathed deep, as his eyes showed the disbelief, and then the fear that it would never end.

Steven asked him for the names of the kids, and he said he only knew them by their nicknames, and that they didnt live in this area, that he had no idea why they had even been in this area. I of course fear retaliation.

It was completely out of place for this neighborhood, but I guess thats never truly the case.

My heart broke for him.