P. 3

Chapter 1

                   Brighton Pier 1979

                   Janokovic and his gang are positioned where the pier stops, on the opposite side

                   of the boardwalk and the sea, on the narrow passage leading into the city centre.
                   In front of the sidewalk, they have spread out an old plastic bag, where they have

                   placed a battery-powered doll, which depicts a thick man in a suit with a high hat

                   and red nose. The doll cradles back and forth with it’s hand stretched out, and
                   with a robotic voice that goes:

                     "Thank you."
                     "Do any of you know the guy who controls the Ferris wheel?" Asks Janokovic.

                     "Why?" Says Eik with a sceptical look on his face.

                     "I want to know more about him."
                     "What’s so interesting about him?" Eik’s tone is slightly arrogant this time.

                     "No, I’d just like to know something about how the wheel works," Janokovic

                   replies, biting his lip; not revealing his plan yet at all costs. He is kind of the
                   leader of the gang, the one that the others look up to; there is a rumour that he

                   almost stabbed a boy to death with a knife once.
                   Most people are surprised when they meet him, because he looks pretty normal,

                   almost a bit shy with his big, black, curly hair, his narrow face and his friendly

                   brown eyes. He is slightly smaller than Matt and Eik, but taller than little George.
                   He is built pretty normal, neither thick nor thin, and he always wears a T-shirt

                   with prints of various cartoon characters.

                   Suddenly, Matt, who previously seemed absent, starts to laugh.
                     "Do you intend to take his job?"

                   Matt is currently scouting for wallets that are sticking out of pockets and bags.

                   He is the oldest one in the gang, and over the past few weeks he has acquired a
                   small, downy moustache that he constantly touches, his voice is also darker than

                   the others because he has hit puberty. He is dreadfully thin, and his limbs appear

                   far too long compared to his head, which is relatively small and round with little,
                   grey eyes. His hair is light blonde, longish, it stops slightly below the ears and

                   tends to curl when it gets wet. He is wearing a green T-shirt with the print of a
                   big yellow face smiling. The T-shirt is obviously too short just as his cowboy
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