#ACHEFELT.

“Oh, is he?” Never one for formality, Jill was a bit more intrigued now. Their secondary location was only moments away, yet she was still as excited as ever for whatever the hell Jason seemed to have in mind. She stood up now, wobble still gracing her every move as the blonde kept herself composed as much as possible. She could handle her drinks… most days. Eyes narrowed at his follow-up, head tilting a bit before a grin of her own appeared. “I think that’s a very good idea.” It didn’t involve her own safety, as far as she was concerned, and that was just another win in Jill’s book. 

Her own cigarette remained lit, hanging from the corner of her lips if not stuck between her index and middle fingers while they moved. She was glad she hadn’t settled for heels before going out that night - walking barefoot around backdoors and alleyways was a tetanus nightmare waiting to happen. Not to say she hadn’t done it before, but it wasn’t a preference. 

𝐍𝐈𝐊𝐈𝐓𝐀 𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐘 feels as if she fell in a parachute on whatever is going on right now which was making her get more anxious. She gently raised her both hands in the air to prove she is harmless. In situations like this, she somehow manages to be extremely calm. The Russian blonde was seeing where the noises and the person were, but she hasn’t moved, remaining rooted in the same spot where she was to not cause any unnecessary conflict. The next thing she felt was Teresa’s hand grasping her wrist when she gazed at this stranger dropped to the brunette. She followed wherever Teresa was leading them. This wasn’t the safest place in town, not even the safest hours. ❛ I --Uh, I— Got lost. ❜ Partially the truth, she’d never tell anyone she’s seeing that deadbeat father of her. Nikki looked backward as she walked with Tess because she had no idea if they were being followed. ❛ What was going on out there…? ❜ She refers to the stranger she bumped into at the scene with Teresa.

Eyes hadn’t failed to notice the damage to Nikki’s face, catching traces of it here and there through the very limited patches of light that were offered on their way out. Once Teresa felt they were far enough away, she pulled herself to a halt and extended an arm towards her friend. There’s a familiar instinct that follows, Teresa’s incessant need to help the people she cared for the most, and her brows furrowed a bit while she inspected the mark. “Who did that?” There’s complete disregard for her own situation, anger just barely becoming a surface level emotion as the detective made an attempt at keeping her cool. 

She followed slowly, raising the back of her jacket to pull out the gun that was placed there. Shifting her path, she chose another route that would end with them face to face. After all, she knew these routes like the back of her hand. Smiling behind the barrel of her gun, she watched the other carefully. "Not interested in when you're leaving but why you arrived?" Not expecting a straight answer, she took the time to flash a light in her face to see if she noticed her. "I'm making the demands while the gun is up. What are you doing here?" And if she had to guess, the stench was not one of alcohol but of law enforcement.

Eyes roll at his counter, smirk of her own shining through without much attempt to stop it as Jill reached forward to take the laughter back. “I’ll sleep with one eye open, how’s that?” Smoke followed through in a deep exhale, cigarette’s scent seemingly the only thing keeping Jill from focusing on the temperature outside. Maybe she had the alcohol to thank for that, too.

Jill would never understand how New York could be so full of surprises yet so predictable all at the same time. The chaos was the unpredictable part, but people had the tendency to fall into routines - herself included - and maybe that was part of the problem. Still, it’s time like these that make her prone to avoid complaining and she’d never back away from the possibility of entertainment. 

“There certainly is.” She was an enabler of sorts, never one to shy from exploiting the destructive tendencies of others to fuel her own ego and sense of excitement. She dabbled in most things on her own, too, but the break was nice sometimes. People like Jason were easy to come by but it was much more fun around people she knew rather than complete strangers. 

One of the many perks of being a longtime employee and literal besties with the owner of Pasta La Vista was Daisy never had to work a Sunday. Never ever. Daisy loved missing Sundays, you know why? Because Sundays had this glorious ability to attract the most judgemental and cheap people in New York City into the restaurant. The post church lunch goers. So she worked Saturdays instead. Daisy would rather serve mimosas the tables full of drunk brunch girls the day before than deal with the holy ones any day. At least the brunch girls were fun. 

Due to this perk, Daisy’s day is filled with adventure instead. She found herself strolling the city streets as she found herself doing this a lot. Daisy was nineteen when she learned the most crucial rule about New York City, anything could happen here. All you did was have to leave your apartment once in a while.

Today, she found herself walking around in the streets of Manhattan. Daisy had walked for so long, she found herself immersed in a street faire. It was full of merchants and vendors, selling art, trinkets, and all sorts of stuff. Naturally, Daisy was attracted to the vendor selling handmade candles. One called Bacon caught her attention. She picked it up and gave it a whiff.

“Oh my god!” It was so weird, yet, smelled so good. Daisy turned to the person beside her. “You have to try this one,” she urged them to take the candle, “It’s the best thing I’ve ever smelt in my entire life.” Daisy paused for a second. “You’re not vegan, are you?”

If you took a look at his birth certificate, it would tell you his date of birth is September 30th,1994. It would tell you he was born at 4:44pm. True story. It would list New York City as his place of birth. For the first eighteen years of his life, it had been the only home he’d ever known. Not every street had a memory tied to it, no, but many of them did. However, since he’s been gone for the last ten years, shit had changed. His favorite donut shop closed down for starters. Some new one opened in its place, some vegan salad restaurant. They changed the name of some streets. Tore down some buildings and rebuilt new ones in their place. But Easton didn’t care about any of the changes, like some other people might.  Other than the donut shop. New York City hadn’t meant anything to him, just the place he lived during  the beginning of his life. It wasn’t the greatest place in the world to him as it was to others. It was a place that carried a lot of memories. Some of them bad. Some of them good. But they were mostly bad. 

Easton sat on a park bench deep in Central Park. He had good memories here, his mother would take him often when he was a child. Easton felt peace in the park. He would skim his phone or maybe crack up a book sometimes when he came down and sat on one of the benches. Other times, he would people watch and spy on the tourists. Sometimes, when he was bored, he’d try to visualize how they saw New York. Did it live up to their expectations? Or did it just smell like piss everywhere? His favorite part of the fantasy was imagining a return flight ticket, boarding the plane, and taking off to a home anywhere else. 

Unfortunately, Easton was already home.

For now, he chilled on the bench, hitting his dab pen every now and then. He lost himself in thought. He was adjusting his sunglasses, the one keeping his red and hazy eyes hidden. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw something fall out of somebody’s pocket as they strolled by. 

“Hey!” Easton called to them, before standing up, putting the glasses back on his face. “Wait!”  When they didn’t hear him the first time, he walked towards the item. “You dropped something!” Easton got closer and got a better look of the item. “What the -”  It was a clear plastic baggie, with about a gram of cocaine inside. 

Central Park was a mere shortcut, a means to an end, and he wasn’t particularly in a hurry, but he liked to keep himself going as much as possible. Mundane tasks kept the mind off things that didn’t need to surface again. Although he’d lived there forever, there was no indication of him doing so because he didn’t look like a city guy. In fact, Rafe looked quite opposite to most people walking the streets, sticking out like a sore thumb. Luckily, the city held thousands of people that didn’t care about what anyone else really looked like. Maybe that was the beautiful part of it all and what kept him around. He hadn’t realized how fast he was walking until he was stopped, feet slowing to pull him to a halt as he turned to eye the other. Threat? To be determined, but Rafe wasn’t exactly concerned.

Location: Outside the Clubhouse

For as long as Jason could remember, he was addicted to the chaos. To the bloodthirsty crowds and the back alley dealings, to his back being up against ropes, and his knuckles raw from punching himself free. It was an addiction and it fueled him, and at the same time gave him a renewed sense of clarity. 

But with tensions on the rise between the gangs, Jason had found himself craving those more peaceful moments, his gut urging him that it was only a matter of time before they became rarity—the quiet before the storm. 

Jason had managed to stow away from the Clubhouse, his shift over and the rest of the night: his. He kicked a foot up to the wall outside the club and grabbed a cigarette, leaning back into brick. It wasn’t until Jason had wedged it between his teeth that he heard footsteps and cocked his head to side to meet the source of the sound. Peace and quiet would have to wait. 

She was bored that night, though, interest elsewhere while some winner talked her ear off inside. Two, three, four drinks and a couple shots hadn’t been enough to drown him out, chaos put aside for just a moment as she excused herself to grab fresh air… with every intention of not returning. It’s outside that she finds her new target, and she had no peace or quiet to offer.