Bruised and humiliated, the two men scrambled to their feet and fled, stumbling as they vanished into the darkness.
Still shaken, I thanked him profusely. He responded casually, “You shouldn't be wandering around alone at this hour. This area is quiet and prone to crime.” His voice was firm, yet kind. “You better get going, head back to the safety of your home.”
Before I could pull myself together, he was already pushing his beat-up bike away. I rushed after him, insisting that he give me his contact information.
That night, I called home. My parents, frantic with worry, nearly lost their minds. When my father heard I had almost been assaulted, he sent people to track down and deal with those two homeless men.
From then on, I used my gratitude as an excuse to stay in touch with Kieran. I bought him a new bike as a token of thanks and started inviting him to hang out—shopping, eating and just spending time together. Gradually, we grew closer.
After getting to know each other better, I learned his story. He was a film school graduate without money or connections, struggling to survive in the entertainment industry.