Darius did his best to hide a smirk at all the whispers from the neighbors as he watched the movers move his stuff into the apartment.  He couldn't catch every word, but some words were spoken louder than others, as if keywords to describe him.  Words and phrases such as "has a dark past", "killed a guy", and "ex-con".  The one that nearly got him to break into laughter was "thirty years old".  Given his "troubled past", it was a wonder he didn't show the years more accurately.  The truth was, most of the rumors were false.  But he wasn't about to tell anyone the truth.  He liked them believing what they believed because the truth was far more dangerous than living a lie.<br/><br/>Considerably over 30 years old, a shade under 6 feet tall, brown eyes and muscular of build, Darius kept his dark hair cropped short.  He'd been told he was handsome by women in the past, but that was when he wore a different face.  Major damage had been done to that face, requiring reconstructive surgery.  He liked the new face, but he hadn't had the time or the inclination to get close enough to a woman to find out what they thought of that face.  A most pronounced limp completed the picture of Darius Green.<br/><br/>With the furniture moved in, he entered the apartment.  He'd had the movers position the furniture away from the walls.  That's because he hated the color beige.  Tonight was going to be an all-nighter painting the walls.  Darius just wasn't sure what color yet.  Green?  No!  It reminded him too much of the uniform he wore in the Army.  Orange?  That would match the uniform everyone thought he'd worn.  But that was too loud for his tastes.  Red!  That was it.  A bright red to match his favorite baseball team.  And maybe a blue for the bathroom to replace the hideous pink it was covered in.  After one last look around the apartment, he left, headed for a home improvement store.