Norah sighed as she leaned back in her seat, her fingers idly playing, folding and unfolding the piece of paper that rested in her lap. The bus she had been spending the majority of her time on was beginning to look more and more like home than home ever did. It was old and outdated and smelled like booze, baby powder, and sadness, everything that described Norah's life down to a T. Her hand fell from the paper, resting on the eighties pattern of the seat that was worn out and itched, her fingers over the worn, tired markings. She looked over at the seat beside her, her duffel bag keeping away strangers and brought a sense of comfort. Turning her attention away from the mostly empty bus, she chewed on her lip as she rested her forehead against the cool glass of the window as she stared out at her surroundings.

She sighed, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment. The onset of memories flooded her, her thoughts assaulting, bullying her, chewing her up. Her heart hurt and thudded loudly in her chest. The mix of rage, fear, and exhaustion was too much, she was tired of running. She fought against them, pushing them back, back, locked it all behind that thick iron door in her mind. Her thoughts were her only company and they were bad company at that, often beating her up for things she knew she had no control over.

New, fresh start... Maybe this could be it. Maybe this really could be it...

She wanted to believe herself.

Norah wasn't exactly sure when she had fallen asleep, but she was soon startled awake by the bus lurching to a stop. She jolted upright, looking around, panicked for a moment before she settled once more, allowing herself to relax as much as she could. She let out a nervous sigh and shook her head, looking down at her lap to compose herself, to focus on her breathing. She was a nervous wreck and a disaster waiting to happen. She truly was a broken mess.

Lifting her head, she chewed on her lip as she looked out of the window where she saw a quaint little street, old by the looks of the brick laid streets and the long, rustic strip of buildings. She looked at the building in front of the bus stop, straining her head a little to see the sign, hand-painted above the windows reading "Benji's Bread in Little Italia."

It seemed quiet, nice, serene. Brought a sense of comfort and security. Maybe she could be safe here, happy even. It was something she so desperately craved, she was so tired of running constantly, hiding. She stood, lifting her duffel bag and slinging it over her shoulder as she walked off the bus, holding her hand over her eyes to shield herself from the brought sunlight. Walking down the street, she looked around, taking in the beauty of the rustic little street. It was a bustling, busy, populated city but it seemed almost like none of that mattered here. It truly felt like something out of a fairy tale, time was frozen, standing still.

Everyone here looked vaguely the same and Norah could tell it was one of those tightly knit communities where everyone was related in one way or another. She didn't blend in at all and that worry nagged at the back of her head, poked at her buttons and she stuffed that feeling as deep down as she could, determined to not let it bother her. She needed to settle down, even for a week, hopefully, a month. She had no money left to her name and she had slept on one too many benches lately. The looks of pity and concern she was getting was beginning to wear her spirit down if she even had one left. She pretended, sure. She was a hell of a good actress. She could conquer a lie out of thin air and make it seem plausible, but even she was getting tired of her own games.

The sun was shining that morning, bright, warm and beautiful. She loved the feeling of the sun on her skin, it was like a thousand warm, gentle kisses caressing her skin. She didn't even know what she was looking for as she walked; just getting her bearings. Her heels clicked against the old bricks as she slowly made her way down the sidewalk, taking in the beautiful sight of the neighborhood. Children ran happily between houses, yelling and playing. It brought a smile to her face. Other people were busy working outside their shops, sweeping and wiping windows, tending to things. It was strangely homey, felt like she could almost belong here. She slowed down when she saw a 'Help Wanted' sign posted in a window and as she looked up, she realized it was a pub, an old worn out sign read 'La Stella D'oro.'

It was a small, rustic pub with an old flare to it. The windows spanned the entire side of the building, slightly clouded with age, some of the windows had flyers and posters taped to them, advertising local events. She watched as people inside the pub were busy with their work, moving boxes throughout the building. The red brick was dull but still a warm red. The awning above the windows and door was daded with age, a dirty green. The rest of the building was tall, spanned a couple of stories. The rest was probably apartments, and she wondered if any had vacancies. Outside was a chalkboard menu with specials and sales written on it in rather cute and delicate handwriting.

Norah had thoughts running through her head. "Waitressing or bartending wouldn't be so bad. Hell, I'd even be a janitor." She muttered to herself, sighing, "if I can get a job, all I'll have left is to find a place to stay."

She looked at her reflection in the pub windows. Her pitch-black hair was a tumbling mess and her clothes were wrinkled from the long bus ride and her hands went to smooth the fitted grey tee that hugged her curves. Luckily, she still looked somewhat presentable. She ran her hands over her skinny jeans, over her hips as she smoothed the material there as well before adjusting her leather jacket. She stood straight and leaned in closer to the window, using it as a mirror as she wiped under her eyes and pinched her cheeks a few times before she took fistfuls of hair and tamed it into a ponytail that could pass as artfully tousled. She shrugged.

"Good enough for an interview, I guess." She muttered quietly to herself before putting on her best bewitching smile.

She walked up to the door, giving it a firm push and as the door opened, a small bell above it gave a soft 'ding!' Norah looked around the place, employees bustling about and the floor was littered in boxes of varying inventory. The inside was just as homey and warm feeling as the outside of the pub, with rustic paintings and the like hanging on the walls, the lovely old brick showing through, uncovered. Support beams broke up the floor but didn't cramp anyone, old street signs decorating them. The tables and chairs were old but loved, dull in color. It felt like walking through a portal to another time, a happier time. She couldn't help the smile that crossed her lips. The smell of burning wood filled the air and she took a deep breath of that smell into her lungs, savoring it.

Norah finally snapped out of her thoughts and chewed on her lip. "Hello?" I'm here about the 'help wanted' sign. I've got two hands ready for work." She called out, looking for the owner.

***

Gabriele had been preoccupied, helping stock the pub for the lunch rush of hungry workers that worked in the various little shops in the community. He heard the little chime of the door and turned around as he rubbed his hands together, flour clouding the air for a moment. He was taken back by the woman standing at the entrance of the pub, however, his eyes wide before his eyebrows furrowed together. She was out of place in the small little town inside of a city, with her long curly hair and her flashy clothes, certainly something someone from here wouldn't be caught in. It caught his attention though and he had to clear his throat to bring himself back to reality.

"Sorry miss, we're closed till lunch," Gabriele said, looking her over once.

Gilbert had an amused smile on his face as he looked at the younger man, "she's here for the job, Gabe."

"Oh!"