It wasn't even five minutes after Jon walked into the deli shop, did the small gang of four men enter it as well. Obviously it wasn't at all suspicious to Jon, with how they were eyeballing him earlier.

Jon didn't like to think of himself as at all paranoid, but he knew guys like those, and knew them well. They were like a species of animal: with enough research and observation, he would know everything about them.

They're entering the shop after very clearly showing interest in Jon's character, was comparable to a coyote pack stalking any moving thing that interests them from afar.

Jon wasn't scared of coyotes though, and he certainly wasn't scared of a group of men barely out of their teens wanting to act all tough like Jon should be afraid of them.

Hopefully if they had any common sense, or manners at all, they'd keep their distance.

Jon just wanted a damn sandwich.

Sighing quietly to himself, he waited in the small line up to the server, glancing up to the menu to see if there were any interesting specials for the day.

The first thing he saw was a tuna salad special of some sort; he didn't get to immediately read it however, when he was suddenly, rudely pushed from his spot. With a grunt, he whipped his head around to see the group of men, all four snickering amongst one another cockily.

"Oops. Sorry man." One of the pompadoured punks said without any hint of sincerity in his voice. He actually smirked in Jon's direction before going up to one of the sandwich cases with his friends.

Jon didn't immediately answer back, but he did send a glare their way, indicating he knew what they had planned. With a quiet scoff, he looked back to the menu, and stepped up to the counter when it was his turn.

"Your daily special, please." he spoke gruffly to the older woman at the register, with bright makeup caked on her face.

The woman didn't immediately answer back to him. Instead, she grimaced at his appearance; the leather jacket, the bike helmet, the messy hair, it all clearly bugged her.

Jon realized her looks when he got his wallet out, his own grimace making his way to his face.

"That was my order, lady; either take it or I'll get it myself."

His rude response wavered a scoff and a glare from the older woman as she took his money and rang his order in. She didn't say a word though, just going to give the piece of paper to the sandwich maker in the kitchen.

Jon scoffed as well, moving out of the way so the next person could get in line.

Ten minutes or so went by without issue, save for some looks and glances from other people in the deli, towards Jon. As was stated before, news of Jon's strange arrival travelled quickly, as well as his character. So again, being a stranger in a town built on gossip and assumptions, it tended to get annoying to have other people stare at Jon, either with hesitant curiosity, or straight contempt. There was no changing it though, so the most he responded with in these kinds of situations, was to glare at whoever was staring, or make some rude comment.

Usually, it made people look away, or try to hide themselves in their newspapers.

There was no need for any other comments, save the serving woman at the register. He sat relatively peaceful at his barstool, waiting at the small, three seat bar table near the register for his food.

For the most part, anyways.

While there were stares from intrigued patrons, it wasn't them that bothered Jon. Instead, the group standing near the sandwich case were bothering the man. A few times, he'd caught them blatantly staring at Jon, laughing amongst themselves about said man, for whatever reason, with whatever they were saying.

Their antagonizing nature towards him, least to say, was beginning to become bothersome. He was only about to become more bothered when one of them finally approached him.

"Hey, ain't you that new guy? Jim, or uh, Joan? Something?" he asked.

Jon shot a narrow-eyed glare at the other, looking away.

"Jon." he corrected.

"Who's asking?"

The other man shrugged.

"Just curious. Heard some stuff 'bout 'ya that I wanted to know about. Heard you can be a real hard-ass, always glarin' and mean." he stated, leaning against one of the barstools, Jon furrowing his brows and looking more directly to him. He glanced over the other's shoulder, seeing the expectant and equally condescending faces from his friends.

Jon sighed and sat straighter.

"Mean, huh?"

"Yeah man. Saw that bike of yours out there and remembered Old Man Smith sayin' something about some 'arrogant jackass looking for fights' who had that same color bike, down by his mechanic shop." the man said, snorting a laugh, raising his hands in defense when Jon glared more at him.

"Just something I heard, no need to give me the look. Me and my buddies wanted to see if Smith was right. So far though...."

He looked at Jon up and down, sucking in a mocking breath of air through his teeth, shaking his head.

"Not impressed." he chuckled.

Jon sneered at him, scoffing and turning away from him, waving a dismissive hand. The man and his friends laughed more out loud at him, Jon ignoring them for the time being. Just as the other man calmed himself, the older server woman came to Jon, giving him his tuna salad. The second it was set on the bar though, the man perked.

"Oooh, don't mind if I-"

he didn't finish his sentence before Jon's hand suddenly, tightly gripped his wrist.

"Now you're really pissing me off." he said sharply, looking directly at him.

"Now listen: yeah, I am that 'arrogant jackass', except I don't look for fights. They just seem to wanna come to me, by candy-ass punks and their spazzy friends who think they're tough cause they got pocket knives and souped up cars, which I'm guessing you and your 'gang' came in. Right?"

Jon was in no way bluffing his indications to the other, not even being subtle about his intentions should this punk want to mess further with him.

Shoving the kid away, Jon got up from the bar stool.

"That being said, leave me the hell alone. I just want a damn sandwich, and I can't even have that in peace. So back off before you make a mistake, kid." Jon finally warned, snatching his sandwich from the bar and practically storming out of the deli, and leaving the other man absolutely stunned, as well as his friends.

Though he wasn't proud, Jon was just happy to leave with his food. Unfortunately, the peace didn't last long when the deli doors slammed open, the guy storming towards Jon, while his friends remained aways.

"You think you can talk to me like that, fucker? Huh? I ain't afraid of you, big man!" he proclaimed as he went right up to Jon. Jon turned to him, confronting him as well. The other man seemed a bit take aback when he saw how much taller Jon was, at least by a good few inches than him. Still, he stood his ground, and shoved Jon, making him stumble.

"Come on, you said all those big words but you ain't doin' anything! I'm starting to think you're some candy-ass yourself, big man!" he hollered, followed by a mocking laugh.

Jon listened to him and practically snarled as he rushed right up to the kid, pulling a fist back and hitting him right on the jaw, knocking him right onto the ground.

"You want a fight? Well then get up and tell me that again." Jon opposed without fear.

The kid huffed, shaking himself out and glaring up at Jon as he got up.

"Oh yeah? Oh yeah!?" he yelled, swinging his fist at Jon, to which the other man easily backaway from, grabbing the kid by the back of his jacket and again throwing him to the ground. The other unfortunately wasn't finished, stumbling up and ramming himself into Jon to try and get him to fall. Jon firmed his step, gripping onto the other man with one hand while the other hit him hard on the side of the head a few times. When the other kid stumbled again, and tried to hit Jon again at the same time, Jon caught his arm. He brought him forward, keeping a grip on his arm as he punched the other in the face twice more, easily bloodying his nose and splitting his lip with his powerful hits. He saw the other was dazed though, and decided he had enough. Taking the front of his shirt, he stormed forward to his friends, grunting as he physically picked the kid up and threw him, making him hit his group.

Jon panted and stepped back, glaring sharp at the group, and just daring them to try and defend their friend.

Thankfully, they seemed to get the point more easier than their friend did. Stumbling up, they checked to see if their friend was okay; he was alright, but no doubt his pride was shattered. While they attended to their friend, two of them helping him up and speed walking to the car, Jon turned back to his bike, putting his helmet on and sighing heavily as he got on the bike.

However, out of that four group of friends, one stood back, watching Jon in some interest. He was as afraid to confront him, but thought of something else instead of running...something he hoped wouldn't bite him in the ass. But after what he'd just witnessed from the stranger, he figured he should give it a shot.

Biting his lip, and ready to scream 'uncle' if he needed to, he went right over to Jon, moving in front of his bike.

Jon looked up, glaring and growling, already getting off the bike.

"Alright you little fucker, I swear to Christ-"

"Do you know where the old shipping warehouse is? Down past South Street?" the new kid said quickly, tense.

Jon's glare melted some, confusion sweeping his face.

"What?"

"...Y-You know, the old shipping warehouse...I've seen your bike around a few times pass it. Its just north from the church, about 5 miles or so down the road...its an old dirt road, you can't miss it."

Jon's confusion grew. He did know what the other kid was talking about though, he'd seen that old warehouse. But why was it suddenly important?

Before he could question, the kid spoke again.

"Go there this Saturday if you want some jobs; 4 PM."

Jon furrowed his brows.

"Jobs? Look, I don't know what you're assuming-"

"Not normal jobs...I can't say too much, but...I think...I think you'd be pretty welcome there. The boss might like you..." he said, gulping softly and looking towards the car his friends were in, then back to Jon.

"Just do it! We need guys like you!"

With that, the kid ran off to the car after his friends called him, the car speeding off once he got in, leaving Jon terribly confused at the message he just received.

Jon's brows furrowed as his mind began to turn, questioning what that was about. First, he's fighting one kid, then another is suddenly telling him some riddle about the old shipping warehouse.

He wanted to believe it was some joke, some trick to lure him in for another round...but he said it with such conviction, like what he was saying wasn't some prank or some call to another fight.

'Jobs'? 'Boss'?

'We need guys like you'...

...Jon didn't know what to think as he watched the car speed off, that kid's words still ringing in his head. That whole situation was too fast to even think of a proper answer.

What was at the warehouse past South Street, and why would they want him?