You live in a world where there are two kinds of people, those who get tricked, and those who take you for everything your worth. She was not one for being taken advantage of, and you figured that out quickly. Your whole life was just about surviving, but when you met her you fell in love with the idea of living. Really living white picket fence and all. And when that world you had imagined came crashing down you desperately did everything in your power to pick up all the pieces, trying to put them back together. 

You were living out of the bar you worked at. Everything you needed to survive was in your bag, tucked away and garden in your locker. Most nights you just sleep in one of the V.I.P rooms. It was pitiful, but it was working so far. It had only been about 8 months since your father kicked you out. You had been sleeping on park benches and under bridges until you found a job.

You had been working at a bar in the city, it was a nice place and the pay was good. You woke up about 30 minutes before 9 and got dressed. After you finished in the bathroom you grabbed your bag and went out the back door. You circled the block and maddie in back in front of the bar. “Hey.” Your manager greeted you before unlocking the front door letting you in. You walked to the back and put your bag back in your locker. You went out back into the bar and took all the chairs down off the tables, and got all the cups and liquors out from behind the counter. 

“Hey, sorry I'm late.” You heard a familiar voice as the door opened. It was your coworker Sam. He worked most days, always showed up late, always had the same excuse. “I had to stop for gas.” He said as he went to the back. 

It had been about 2 hours and the flow of people was good. It was around 11 when this big group of people walked in. It looked like about 7 men all in the same black suits. There was one person in the middle but you couldn't get a good look before they disappeared into the V.I.P room. You had been working the bar for the first half of the night until Sam wanted to switch. “My feet are killing me, can we trade?” He asked as he dramatically leaned on the bar. “Sure.” You said as You walked out from behind the bar and made my rounds to the tables. After You ran a few drinks back and forth you made my way over to the V.I.P room to refresh their drinks.