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...blonde male sidles in, a loaded gun invisible, but weighing down the left pocket of his leather jacket. he shivers as a cold breeze blows up, throwing papers into his face. he'd met one person so far..he had known everyone in the Ghetto of the Big Apple. now he knew none. in a way that was good, but again bad. he didn't have the mobs after him and his crew- but he didn't have his connections either. here, he didn't have the friends in high places he was used to... |