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The last touches of dusk had faded to the heavy darkness of night, the sky cast in a deep indigo, the twinkle of stars suffocated by a thick blanket of clouds, making the night muggy and humid. The streets were desolate, most everyone snuggled up in the safeties of their homes, other than the homeless and the night crawlers.

Rowen was walking along one of the cracked sidewalks, weeds peeking through here and there, on her way back to Paradise from Shirley's. It had been a long night of drink after drink after drink, and Rowen's walk was showing it. Her legs crossed over each other occasionally, tripping her up a bit. She stumbled frequently and spent a majority of the time guiding herself along walls and store fronts as she passed. Soft giggles were rumbling out of her pillowy, full lips as she remembered bits of the comedy show that Shirley's had been playing on their old ass TV. As she was about to pass an opening to an alley, she paused, wobbling a bit, as she glanced in. A skinny, scrappy looking mutt dog was near the end of the alley, before the turn behind the building, laying on a flatted cardboard box. Rowen had a handful of weakness other than drugs, booze, money, and single dads- two of which being elderly people and animals. Animals were just cool dudes, they weren't trying to play you, like most people, they were just surviving. Similar to elderly people.

"Heeey," She called softly, her voice slurred awfully and was whispy sounding in her drunken state. "Hey guy, c'mere bud." She dropped to a clumsy crouch, stretching out a hand towards the dog. The dog got up slowly, shakily. Rowen didn't register the soft crunching of small gravel on the road, under the wheel of a car as it slowly approached. The dog however, was looking past her, it's crooked tail tucked between its hind legs, before he turned and scampered off into the shadows. "Have a good night, man." She bid to him quietly, before slowly standing up, stumbling back a step after loosing her balance. Her unsteady thoughts shifted to her own, very beloved pet at home. The little kitty that went by a dozen names, the one with the torn up ear and missing eye. "Aww, baby," She cooed to the empty darkness, lurching forward in her journey home with a new determination to get there quicker and cuddle up with the lanky cat.

That was when the all too familiar 'whoop' of a police siren flared for a split second from behind her, sending her jumping and whirling around in the air to face the police cruiser idling on the side of the empty road. Their lights were off again, it was just a sudden jump scare it seemed, to grab her attention. And grab her attention it did. Rowen glared at the cruiser's tinted windows, feeling her heart beat pounding against the inside of her breast. After a long minute, right before she decided to turn and continue on her stumble home, a man in uniform stepped out, door still held open with one hand. Rowen felt even more disappointed that it wasn't Charles, she liked his 70's pornstache. She hadn't seen this officer before, and that made a crease of drunken confusion knit her thin brows. Rowen had personally met every cop in this little, shady town, and even most of the paper pushers stuck on desk duty at the precinct too. But this face grinning at her wasn't one she'd seen before. A nasty feeling stirred in her guts, a cold crawl molesting her pale skin. After twenty two years of getting into the situations that Rowen often found herself in, she was able to feel trouble at this point. Oh man, She thought to herself, a tremble in her fingers. This guy is bad news. Be polite, get home. It was a dreadfully sober thought in her mess of a mind.

"Well hello there, lil' lady." Came a chillingly smooth, charming voice. It sent an ominous shiver up Rowen's spine, that mind of her's that knew of these types of things too well, telling her she needed to get the fuck gone. She kept her breathing steady, hissing from between her parted lips, her narrowed gaze sizing up the officer. She said nothing to him at first, taking a half step back in her dirty, scuffed up converse sneakers.

"Ya need a ride home, darlin'?" He asked, coming around the front of the vehicle and standing on the same side of it as Rowen was.

"Nah," She answered curtly. "Homes just around the corner." She tried to sound as sober as possible, her words surprisingly strong and steady. She'd done this act before.

The officer clearly didn't look pleased with this answer, in fact, it alarmed Rowen how quickly his expression turned to one of rage. "Miss, you're coming with me." He stated, approaching her with long, fast strides. Rowen's heart pounded in her chest and she took a few fast steps backward, tripping over her own feet and stumbling to her ass.

"W-wait. Why?" She stammered, trying to clamber to her feet. Shit, was she about to get in some big trouble for either evading, failing to comply with, or assaulting an officer? Yep, if it came to that, she'd use the empty beer bottle rolled into the gutter to cave his skull. Damn, that'd be some hard time. Her thoughts were a blur, not being helpful as she tried to focus on the unraveling situation. As she came back to the present time, he was standing over her, glaring with a hatred as he reached a hand down and grabbed her by her hair. Next thing she knew, she was being dragged, kicking, flailing and hollering, into the back of the police cruiser. As she was stuffed into the back, curling her knees up to her chest on the seat, arms wrapped around them, she had a haunting feeling they weren't going to the station. She thought of her little, grey, furry pal at home, curled up and waiting for her on her old, tired couch. Probably the only one who'd notice if she never returned.

~

When she awoke, she was in a grassy ditch beside a gathering of rain water, along side a long, single lane road, shivering from being damp. She wasn't in town anymore, but she knew the area, and it wasn't too far away from Palm Hills. She ached and her brain throbbed against her skull. For a long while, she just laid there.

~

Her feet were bare, the soles blackened with grime, the exposed skin on her lower calves spattered with small flicks of mud. She was pants less, her naked frame covered only with her baggy, black T-shirt and a pair of underwear beneath. The clothing still appeared damp, clinging to her curves. Her arms and thighs showed budding bruises, blossoming in colors of decaying blue and sickly greenish yellow, a few minor scratches zig-zagged red here and there. One of those modelesque like cheek bones was swollen and pink like raw flesh, the eye above it blackened and shut like a puff pastry. Dried blood was crusted under her nose, and along her fat, lower lip, where a gash was split down the center. Her mouth hung open a crack, as if she was slack and devoid of anyone steering the vessel. Those pale, green eyes - er, eye, that usually was so alluring, was now empty, like someone turned off the light inside. The open eye was red and watery, unfocused. Bleached blonde hair was disheveled and still wet, some strands draping in her battered face.

Her head was tuned to the static channel, nothing getting through but black and white fuzziness. She was vaguely aware of the throbbing pound of dull pain through all her nerves and muscles. Every once an awhile a frequency would slip through the white noise, "Home. Bed. Home. My Bed." All she wanted was to dope up, get real numb, forget, see how high she can float, forget, crawl into bed and bury herself there, forget. She wanted to sleep for days, shut the world out, get as close to nonexistence as possible. She had to forget. Had to rot this memory away like so many, many others before it. Deep inside, she almost felt like crying, but she couldn't, the tears wouldn't come, like the switch for them was long broken somewhere inside her. She'd learned too long ago that the tears did nothing, the tears didn't stop the pain, they just showed that you were affected by it. And that was a display of weakness. Rowen had cried twice in the past eight years, but most normal people with working emotions would have in those situations. So for now, she just walked, like a zombie. Dawn was beginning to leak into the sky, lifting the veil of indigo. She was about a mile outside of Palm Hills now.
Jane was lost. Every road looked the same as she'd come in through the west and kept looking the same no matter which direction she drove. She'd debated stopping at a gas station to ask for directions but she almost thought they were worse than just being lost. The ones she'd seen had been older relics of the Seventies and Eighties, pumps rusting in the Florida rain, and an overweight attendant with hungry eyes rotting inside the attendant's shack. Just a little further... she'd kept telling herself. She'd had plenty of gas when she started saying it too but now the tank was down to a quarter full and Jane was suffering some anxiety.

A map lay crumpled up, angrily by the looks of it, on top of the dash board. The rear seats of her old Dodge Colt were filled with all her Earthly belongings. That amounted to some clothing, some plastic bins with cosmetics and toiletries, and a few other little bits of this and that. The front passenger seat held an equally crumpled bag of McDonalds that had served as her dinner on the go. Moving was such a bitch... take a Trod, they'd said. Oh no, I want the scenic route she'd said. Now she was on another wrong road in the middle of bumblefuck and getting lower on gas.

Mud and gravel squelched under her tires, and with Jane half wondering if she'd run over an alligator in this weather, she turned right down another nameless stretch of road. Finally, finally, she saw the lights of Palm Hills ahead on the horizon in the slowly brightening dawn. Jane let out a whoop of joy, Led Zeppelin urging her on through the cars speakers, and pressed the gas pedal to go just a little faster. She could find gas, a motel, actually get some sleep, then start getting settled in early for the new job. Life was going on track for once.

No sooner than she'd thought it, Fate must have sensed it, because the curve ball came in the form of a figure suddenly walking in the road in front of her.

Jane slammed on the brakes and her car fish tailed, the slender woman behind the wheel struggling to keep from going off the road while at the same time trying to not kill the person in front of her. She flew past, missing the figure by a foot or less, then eventually stopped fifty feet further up with her taillights shining red in the gloom. Jane took a deep breath, hands shaking, and undid her seatbelt on the third attempt. She got out of the car and looked at the figure coming closer.

"Oh my God, I'm sorry. I didn't see you until... are you okay?"

It seemed the polite thing to ask when you'd almost run a person over. Jane felt bad but also irritated. What was a person doing walking out here at this hour? Her breath caught when the figure came even closer. Jane saw the bare, mud spattered legs. The wet clothing clinging to the woman's body. The hair. The look in her eyes. The injuries to her face and the ones starting to form on her legs. Holy shit... In the red light from the rear of her car, Rowen looked almost ghastly in the gloom of the rainy night.

"Holy shit." Jane exhaled. "What happened?"

Jane's wide eyes we're almost bugging out of her skull and her mouth was forming a resting 'o' of surprise. If the situation were less serious, it might look comical. Maybe it did anyway. Jane was hardly dressed up, a pair of jeans and a tee with three quarter length sleeves, with a pair of old sneakers that were soaking up water and mud from the road. Her hair wasn't as platinum as Rowen's and hung loose down her back and across her shoulders.

"Hey, come here, whatever it is I'll help you."
Rowen hadn’t heard the approaching vehicle, yet again, this time it was too drowned out by the static between her ears, instead of her drunkenness. Her fingers trembled, hands hanging limply at her sides. She seemed utterly un-phased by the pokes of gravel chunks under her blackened soles, besides perhaps a stumble or two as she marched along in the zombie like fashion.

Suddenly, the sound of crunching and spraying gravel tuned in, very close, very loud and much too late for a reaction. Rowen froze up, her teeth clenching inside her sharp jawline, her fingers curling into her palm as she braced for an impact. The wind flailed her damp locks and tugged at her t-shirt, making her trip forward a little bit as it flew by, crumpling her to her scraped up knees on the unpaved road. Her heart pounded inside her chest as she crouched for a moment, illuminated by the early morning rays and the red glare of brake lights washing over her. Slowly, she stacked herself up on her quaking legs again, her eye rolling under her lid for a moment, and she looked like she’d pass out, but surprisingly didn’t. The disheveled woman looked dazed, or confused, as if trying to comprehend the situation that had just splayed before her. As if trying to determine if it was reality, or something she had imagined. She had been splattered with more mud, the dark droplets speckling her thighs and shirt like grey-brown stars. Her thoughts wrestled with the fact she was a mere foot, maybe less, from being road kill. Should’ve hit me, should’ve hit me. Her bitter mind bit. What comically cruel god would keep someone like Rowen, who treated life like a joke, alive through all the stupidly near-death situations she’d been through? Rowen felt like falling to her knees again, her legs wobbled, but she refused to give. Instead she laughed a bit, quietly, even a little psychotically, but it soon died out.

By the time Jane left her vehicle, Rowen had begun wandering forward again in her determined march for home, for tools to forget. Her shaking steps came to a pause about eight feet from Jane. Rowen’s head tipped slightly to the left. This woman was talking to her, but she wasn’t hearing the words just yet, she was studying Jane’s face. Another face she hadn’t seen before, and it made her pale flesh bubble in goosebumps. A soft breath escaped her chunky, chapped lips as she took a half step back with a foot, seemingly steadying herself. Another face she couldn’t recognize, another face she couldn’t put a name to, no name, nowhere to put blame on. At least this nameless face wasn’t wearing a uniform. Rowen’s gaze flicked down to Jane’s attire, coming in and out of focus as it drank in the casual clothing choice. Rowen’s expression was still a bit spacey, looking slightly confused, a small furrow between her brows.

"Hey, come here, whatever it is I'll help you."

The voice finally checked into Rowen’s head, pushing her tainted thoughts towards the back. Her un-swollen eye traveled from Jane’s mud soaked sneakers back to her face as the words registered. “I need a ride into town.” She said finally, her voice raspy, soft and hitched in the middle of the sentence. It sounded weak, but held the same straight forwardness that Rowen usually had, just… smaller…, which was a bit frightening if one really knew the girl.
John sped down the road in his motorcycle as the rough voice of ShiGGa Shay rapped the chorus of "Lion City Kia" on his earpieces. He shifted uncomfortably in the seat of his new purchase. He was still sore from his flight and sitting down for so long but his apartment was supposed to be near the airport. Problem was, he had no idea where Palm Hills was.

Walao, he thought, why US so big sia, I never had to be on the road for more than an hour in Singapore. Almost immediately, he dismissed the thought, remembering that the tiny size of his homeland and its high population density had often been a source of irritation as he struggled to find room on something as basic as public transport.

That's why I tell you, every unit got shiok and got siong one. The wisdom of his company sergeant-major distilled from over 2 decades of military career came back to him as he acknowledged that all things have their pros and cons.

Still, the most immediate problem here was getting to his apartment so he could rest. His GPS seemed to be experiencing a bad day as it had failed to locate his phone about 2 hours after leaving the airport. John had been driving blindly for the past half hour.

Noticing a two women standing at the side of the road, he pulled over behind a car that seemed to be parked very awkwardly and got off his motorbike.

"'Scuse me, do either of you know how I can get to Paradise Apartments? I think it's located in Palm Hills but I don't know how to get there." He directed the question at both of them but tactfully averted his eyes from the half-dressed one in order to prevent himself from staring.
"Sure, I can give you a ride."

Jane lamented about the fate of her semi-clean car seat for only a half second before telling herself she was being foolishly selfish. She certainly could be but her sense of basic humanity was intact, more or less. This tall, blonde woman needed help. Something had happened to her, something really bad. A car crash maybe? It was dark and shitty out, maybe she'd gone off the road? Didn't explain the lack of pants.

"Do you need me to call an ambulance?" Jane asked Rowen, grabbing the passenger side door handle of her tiny car. "You look a little beat up."

Was that a headlight approaching? Behind her car, Jane saw a motorcycle ride up with the man on the back of it. Her eyes went between Rowen and the newcomer, mostly watching Rowen for a reaction. The presence of the male, in the middle of nowhere, with the injured woman suddenly made Jane very suspicious. It was almost dawn, how many random travelers were on this road? It made her really wish she owned a gun sometimes. Not that she wanted to use it but... she'd have felt a lot safer all of a sudden if she'd had one.

That the man didn't say anything at all about Rowen's state either... struck her as very odd. Sure, he was behind her, but how many women would be out here without pants? Maybe he couldn't see the bruises? Or gave them to her... was the next gut tightening thought. He'd already shown he wasn't the typical man by asking for directions. He also looked really fit and strong. Not someone Jane would want to get into a fight with. She tried to see if his knuckles were bloody.

"I, uh, I'm not sure. Palm Hills is that city on the horizon there." Jane indicated ahead of them but didn't take her eyes off the newcomer while she tried to steer Rowen into the little car. "I've never heard of Paradise Apartments."

So only Rowen could hear, she whispered.

"Do you know that guy? He do this?"
Yet again Detective Cross had been out of town. Yet again it was likely because of 'family affairs', or so that's what he'd call it later no doubt. He sighed softly as he couldn't help but wonder why the hell he was even going back to Paradise... Each time he tried to investigate that drug ring, his boss sent him off on some other random vamp hunt in another town. At this rate he was getting nowhere and looking rather suspicious when his lies became harder to tie together. Normal people didn't just run off every few weeks to God knows where and then come derping back like they were never gone. He didn't have to be human to know that..

He reached to turn the volume up on his radio, drowning out those thoughts of his that were running rampant. Feels like your life is over, feels like all hope is gone.. You kiss it all away~ Maybe, maybe. This is a second coming, this is a call to arms.. You'll find us now and we'll be.. Wasted, wasted... He slowed as he realized he wasn't alone on this road tonight. His heart skipped a beat, and his hand reached to grab a pair of shades that he'd had in the console. His contacts were in the pocket of his jacket, stupidly, but in his defense he had planned to stop somewhere before closing in on home and putting them back in. His eyes had been irritated from overuse of those stupid things. But... who wears sunglasses at night Detective? Hmmm?

When he got closer, he took note of the people standing in the road, slowing his car to a stop. Crimson eyes narrowed as they looked through those shades to try and see what was going on. Thanks to his enhanced eyesight, this was an easy task.. Wait a minute! He knew that half-naked blonde! Damn it all... If he climbed out of his car with these shades he'd look all kinds of suspicious. A thought also nagged at him that at some point or other someone would demand to see his eyes. Know what? Screw it. He shoved the shades back in the console. It was likely far too dark for them to see the crimson to his eyes, let alone the 'x' shape of his pupils. The tall, lean male exited his vehicle as well, but left it running. For that brief second his door had opened, that music soaked into the night air... Well listen up, listen up.. There's a devil in the church, got a bullet in the chamber and- The door closing had ended the song for now and Drake approached the group cautiously.

"Rowen, what the hell happened? 'Was on my way back into town and I..." he trailed off when he got a little closer and saw all those bruises, "Shit.. Who am I killing?" The tiniest hint of a growl had laced into that deep accented voice of his. Drake's jawline tightened and he glanced to the others, the man first and then the girl that seemed to want to assist his friend. "I'm Drake Cross," he told Jane, "Rowen is my neighbor. Do you have any idea who or what did this to her?" What as in car crash, etc.. Yet, he hadn't seen any crashes on the way here. So it couldn't have been an accident.. Could it?

"I live in Paradise," he told the man next, having heard just that last little bit before starting over moments prior. He glanced in the direction of home and nodded, "Just keep on this road, follow the signs and they'll lead you straight to it. The place is small, so once buildings start becoming few and far in between you'll know you're close." A roll of broad shoulders resulted in his jacket being shed and he offered it to Rowen if she'd glanced his way by now. He couldn't tear his eyes away. All those bruises... the mud... the lack of clothing.. Somebody had just made it to the top spot of Drake's hitlist.. He just had to find out who the jackass was and he'd make sure they never did this again; not just to her, but anyone.

(Sorry I'm late to the drama! Still rusty from my long hiatus but I hope that will suffice! ^^)
John looked in the direction the man pointed and nodded. "Thanks man, hope to introduce myself to you guys later." He was about to hop on his motorbike when he noticed the half-dressed woman's-the man called her Rowen- injuries. He mentally kicked himself for not noticing earlier like a decent human being.

"Wah piang eh, who the hell did this to you??" were the first words out his mouth. Right away, he realised that that wasn't the immediate concern. "Uh, nevermind that. I have a first aid kit in my backpack, I can patch you up. Don't worry, I'm trained to use it." He unslung his pack on one shoulder and started digging for the disinfectant and bandages.
Rowen slowly followed Jane to the passenger side of her car, the state of it’s interior not even a fleeting thought in her mind. There wasn’t a whole lot going on up there right now, better that way, better to be blank, any content would be of the sour sort.

“Don’t call the ambulance.” She muttered, waiting for Jane’s hand on the door handle to come into action, so she could finally plop inside and crumble a little. “I don’t got the cash for it, and the girls at the clinic hate me.” Came a quiet, mumbled explanation. She was either not aware, or didn’t give a shit about the sound of more approaching engines. Headlights washed over her figure, and she squinted her good eye, moving a battered hand up to shield it from the light, which pierced her head and made her groan softly.

Rowen, after a brief glance at the stranger on the motorcycle, let her eye squeeze shut, as if she were suffering a migraine. The world had blurred a little, she hated that, so it was better to see nothing. The blurs made her dizzy, but at least it wasn’t the spins, those fuckers made her nauseous.

Hearing ‘Paradise’ brought her around a little, and she cracked open her openable eye, glancing over her shoulder to where the foreign man was, looking him over. Another stranger in Paradise? That’s all it seemed to be lately. Strangers, unknown faces. She winced a little, her thin brows furrowing. So many strangers…

Jane’s whisper helped Rowen escape the realm of her thoughts, taking her back into the early morning rays of today. She turned back to face Jane and slowly shook her head no in response, like she was the Tin-man in need of more oiling. This wasn’t the guy. Thank goodness, she wasn’t confident what she’d done if it had been him. Fall to pieces? Rip out his jugular with her own teeth? It was a 50/50.

With that thought in mind, her blood chilled and goosebumps bristled her pale, bruised flesh as another vehicle rolled up behind the motorcycle. It’s make and color was obscured by the headlights, which felt so damn blinding to Rowen. It was like nothing else existed but that fucking bright light shining right into her brain tissue, she had to looked away, turn her face towards the dirt at her bare feet.

At the sound of a car door closing, Rowen was trembling, and cursing herself for it. Weakness, weakness, can’t let them see it. But it was easier said than done, forcing her body to halt it’s responsive actions. The shaking blonde almost broke to her knees again when the sound of a familiar voice graced her ears, not that sickly sweet one, that one that turned savage so quick, but one that brought her some comfort. Drake? He had reappeared again? Her face twisted from the gravel road below her, up to make sure it really was Drake, not some hallucination from brain bleeding or some shit. Her fat, bottom lip trembled as Drake spouted, anger in his voice, soon directing his questions towards the other two road travelers. Rowen began feeling something strange in the pit of her guts as Drake’s interrogating poured on. She felt… ashamed? It was such an alien feeling to her. Why did she feel this way? There was no explanation she could conjure, she just felt the strong desire to scurry away and hide in the shadows, like a rat. Usually, Rowen drank attention like she drank booze, but this was a different.

She clenched and unclenched her fingers in her fists, really letting the feeling of her bruised and swollen knuckles, who were screaming in reluctance, settle in her mind; keeping her alert, she supposed or reminding her she was alive, and this whole shit show was indeed real. After a moment, she reached out to accept Drake’s jacket offer without a word, draping it over her shoulders and borrowing into it, as if trying to hide herself inside. Her eyes dropped to the ground to avoid his, which couldn’t seem to leave her. If she had the ability to blush and feel embarrassed, she would, and that made her feel angry. Face tilted down, she let her hair veil her black and blued face, squeezing her jaw. Hot and burning vexation bubbled and boiled in her chest and she dug her ragged nails into the dirty palms of her hands. Need to be home, need to be home, need to be home. She had to forget all this. She had to run away to her little hidey hole, cover herself in the blanket of shadows and escape this world. This whole night had to be decayed out of her memory lobes. Someone doesn’t live life as contently as Rowen, going through the bullshit she’s gone through throughout her life, without corroding away the reminders and memories of those bad times. Look what happened to Axel, he couldn’t live with the memories, and couldn’t chase them away well enough, so he just stopped living. A sound similar to a sob escaped her dried, fattened lips. She was thinking too much, remembering too much, it needed to be stopped.

When the foreign looking man hopped back on his bike, Rowen felt this ordeal was wrapping up and they’d finally disperse on their way into town, but then he offered some assistance, first aid. A displaced and inappropriate anger was over taking her, filling her nerves and searing her guts. A grunt slipped from her mouth and she reached for Jane’s passenger door herself, tugging it open. “Nah, I’m okay. I want to go home.” Rowen stated, trying not to yell. These people were concerned, trying to help, they didn’t deserve her anger, and she was trying not to give it to them. She couldn’t look at Drake. She was ashamed of their concern, it felt like pity to her. Rowen hated pity, especially when it was directed to her. Her hands shook as she dropped herself into the passenger seat, legs still turned outside the vehicle.

Clearing her throat, she tried to assure, "You two don't know about me yet, but don't sweat, me an' trouble are old pals. This shits the norm." Her voice was hoarse, and hitched again towards the end of her statement, but she was doing her best to lighten up the air. “I just want to go home.” She repeated, a little weaker, a little quieter, as if she were pleading. Her face was pulsating and she felt like her right eye was completely lost inside the layers of inflamed flesh. She wondered if it’d ever be found.
Holy shit, how many people were out and about on a stretch of lonely dirt road tonight? Jane was borderline about to get in her car and just leave but she'd never forgive herself if she left the injured woman outside like that.

"Jane." She answered Drake when he introduced himself. "And no, I don't know. I've been here five minutes."

Rowen, that was the other woman's name. Rowen. Jane liked it, was kind of pretty even if it's owner was beat to shit. Jesus. Who'd done it to her? Apparently neither of the two men now present which made Jane feel safer, probably undeservedly so. She had no idea who they were though Rowen at least seemed to know Drake.

Jane could hear Rowen's tone as she pulled at the passenger door and sat inside. She nodded to the woman's words, not really understanding but also not questioning. Jane was certainly more than happy to get off this stretch of road and go wherever. Anywhere but here. Drake said he lived in Paradise, was Rowen's neighbor, and the new guy said he was looking for Paradise. Talk about things coming in three's. Jane should play the lotto, she reckoned.

"Yeah Rowen, let's get you home." She told her new car mate, shutting the door if Rowen didn't. Jane looked to Drake and the other man. "Guess we're all going to the same place then. Uh, she can tell me where to go, or Drake, you can just go around me and I'll follow you."

Jane made her way back to the driver's seat. Whatever was going on, she couldn't do much about what happened. She could ferry Rowen away though and let her sort stuff out with her friend back home. Paradise? Sounded like a nice neighborhood, right?

((Feel free to time skip the drive if you all like, we can just get to Paradise unless anyone objects))
John paused as Rowen refused his offer fo help, deliberating on whether he should treat her anyway. Nodding his head in aquiescence however, he put his first aid kit back in his backpack. He knew the feeling, albeit not in the same context, of being too proud to accept help. Well, to hell with it if she doesn't want my help he thought I'm not a fucking doctor, I don't have any obligation to patch her up.

John turned the key in his cycle and sped off to Paradise after thanking the man again for the directions. He yawned as the Sun crested the horizon. Soon he'd be lying in his new bed blasting out 'Lion City Kia' in his bluetooth speaker instead of damaging his ears with earpieces.
His jaw was doing much as Rowen's fingers had been, clenching and unclenching; his teeth ground together as his mind was racing a million miles an hour. Easy boy, his mind reminded him, It would be more than a little unwise to lose grip on your temper... Make sure she's okay, make sure she makes it home.. You can catch up later. Focus on only her well being.. That's all that matters... In this moment, it was less pity and more concern that decorated that young man's features.

John was watched quietly as he decided to go ahead and start that way on his own. He gave him a warm nod when thanked and turned his attention back to the girls again. Another warm nod was given to Jane when she'd said her name. Brows furrowed as she also didn't know what had happened, but he didn't voice anything in regards to it. As Rowen burrowed into that jacket, he turned his gaze to the road to avoid making her uncomfortable. It was also less likely they'd see the odd colored eyes if he wasn't looking directly at them.

When Jane said his name, he nodded, "Alright, yeah. I'll take point, no problem. That way Rowen can just relax." With that, he left his jacket with his blonde friend and headed back to his car. Moments later, that old 1968 Dodge Charger drove carefully around and took the lead on the way to Paradise. He led Jane down that old highway, his music turned down now so that he could actually hear his thoughts. Hands gripped the wheel tightly, clenching on and off as he glanced in the rearview from time to time just to make sure she was still back there.

After awhile, he pulled into that old familiar parking lot. His eyes moved to the white lawn chair by Rowen's door as if instinct before he cut his engine and climbed out of his car. He walked over quietly, still hoping that sun would stay away just long enough to get into his apartment in a little while. His contacts were in that jacket... He waited for Jane to cut the engine of her own vehicle and would wait still for her to open the door or for Rowen to get out. The man was going to offer to help her to her apartment if she would allow it. Rowen's small battered form would be easy for the hybrid of an angel to support. He wondered which of these apartments that the two new faces would be taking up residence in within the next few days but he'd allow that thought to scurry to the back of his mind for now.

(That good enough?)
The ride home had been a silent one, with Rowen’s head titled back against the headrest of the passenger seat, eye closed, hands stuffed into Drake’s jacket pockets. Her thoughts were throbbing against the front of her skull, tonguing her rage button and causing a frown to crease her forehead as she sat beside Jane. Why? Why does this fucking bullshit happen? Her thoughts probed, and she wanted to stomp her sore feet, pound her fists against the closest object, have a proper tantrum. She was so tired of this, but wouldn’t, or couldn’t see the lifestyle she lived being the cause of the seemingly magnetic connection to trouble. I’ll kill him, was the last dangerous thought announced in her mind.

Soon enough, the bumpy gravel turned to cracked cement, with weeds trying to reclaim the land poking through here and there, and soon after that, they were home in Paradise. Rowen didn’t have to see to know it, she felt the all too familiar bump of the huge pothole as they pulled into the dirty lot to the pale pink complex, beside Drake's Charger. Her fingers had wrapped around the content of the jacket pocket, thumbing the item for details, secretly hoping it was a lighter for her to swipe, but it was determined not a lighter after a few seconds of feeling. As Jane pulled her vehicle to a stop in the complex lot, Rowen cracked her eye open and glanced down at the item now in her open palm. Contact case. Drake wore contacts? A brief flash of day dream crossed her, imagining Drake looking like a dorky nerd in glasses, then transforming into the handsome stud he was without them, like some sexy librarian situation in a bad movie, or porno. A raspy sigh escaped her, evident that she was a smoker by the way a quiet cough rattled from her chest after. When the car was shifted into park, Rowen pocketed the contact case again, then let her head flop in Jane’s direction and she pulled a tight smile across her teeth without revealing them, cracking open the split in the center of her lower lip again, but didn’t seem to care much.

“Hey, thanks for the lift, lady.” She said, her throat dry, by the sounds of her voice. She thought she’d heard the woman introduce herself, she didn’t remember. “Oh, and for not smearing me into the gravel like a possum, thanks for that too.” She added as she popped the passenger door open and swung a bare leg out, turning away from Jane and pulling herself up and out of the car. Rowen seemed to step out easy enough, standing beside the car, no longer quaking, perhaps standing a little stiffly, a little rigidly, moving a bit slowly. She was sore, to say the least. Home being so close made her feel better though, more comfortable, her place to flee from the world to was only a few yards away.
While still standing outside the open car door, she dipped her head back down to peer in at Jane. "You wouldn't happen to have a smoke, would ya?" She cracked. Jane didn't carry the scent of cigarettes, but hey, had to ask. As she waited, she glanced over her shoulder to where she heard the man on the bike come to a stop, then her one-eyed gaze flicked to where Drake was parked. They seemed to be the only forms of life that made Paradise not seem completely abandon, aside from a very blonde woman with a plastic looking face standing on the second story balcony, watching the four that pulled in.
John pulled into Paradise Apartments soon enough and parked his motorcycle in the carpark. He arched his back as he stretched to greet the rising Sun before grabbing his backpack and heading up to the landlord's room to get his keys. He was greeted by a slim Indian man much to his surprise. The name Tony McClaine had been misleading.

"Wah sir, it's great to see another asian guy here. Sorry ah, but my Tamil not very good, my friends only taught me the slang. Anyway, I'm here to pick up my room keys. I'm that exchange student who registered for a 6-months rented apartment. I believe my university should have subsidised my fees so payment shouldn't be a major issue."

John fought down the urge to call his new landlord "dey". He hadn't seen another asian dude since leaving the airport and he wanted to find someone who would understand his eccentricities. He managed to resist calling McClain "dey" but he failed to not call him a valihboy (rich indian).

"By the way sir, this place is damn nice. You must be a valihboy right?" Almost immediately, John clamped a hand over his mouth as his eyes widened in shock. "Uhh, sorry sir. I didn't mean to be rude. Your finances are your business. I'll just go and diam one corner."
Jane followed Drake back to the apartments. By the time they'd arrived, any notion of the place living up to the name 'Paradise' had been well and thoroughly driven from her mind. The place looked... cheap. It probably was but it was the kind of apartment building you could find lurking in cities everywhere. The faces, the name, the color scheme changed but in the end it was the same fungal growth whether it was sprouting here or in Seattle. Definitely a hard knocks kind of place.

"You're welcome." Jane answered Rowen. "On both accounts. Thanks for not smashing up my hood. Sorry you're having a not so good night."

People didn't walk home pantsless, covered in mud, because they'd on the lotto. Shet out of her car when they arrived, ignoring the eyes that stared at her from the top balcony. The other guy was here too but neither Rowen or Drake seemed to recognize him. He'd been trying to get to this place though so a neighbor? A new one, perhaps.

"Cigarettes?" Jane blinked, having been distracted by the staring woman despite trying to ignore her. "No, sorry. Got some gum if you want?"

A half used pack of Wrigley's was offered from Jane's front pocket, if Rowen wanted some. This place looked dead. Aside from the plastic looking mannequin woman staring down at them. It made Jane think of a corny movie she'd seen once, as a little girl. It felt like a while ago and she didn't remember details. All those closed apartment doors, lights off.. kind of like a mausoleum. Crypts for the renting? Jane hoped she wasn't going to get shot in a drive by, judging by the neighborhood on the way in. The man on the motorcycle wandered off and she was sure Drake was going to be with Rowen in a half second, he'd seemed so concerned about her.

"You going to be alright here?" Jane asked the one-eyed blonde woman who might be a queen, straight out of the saying. "I can stop back later and check on you if you want."

Not that Jane thought Rowen couldn't handle herself but the other woman seemed like she was not at full power right now. Whatever had happened was probably bad. The least she could do was offer, right?
The thin Indian man who greeted John on the other side of the apartment door looked small, thin and drastically tired, like the life was flowing from his pores like sweat, which he also had a lot of on his bald forehead, making it shine. He squinted his eyes at John, seeming almost confused why someone would be at his door, as John explained himself being the exchange student. "Ah," Tony said in a thick accent, appearing that something finally registered in his head. "Let me grab your keys!"

He was briefly gone from the open door way, fetching a set of keys off his kitchen counter and returning with them. He held them out to John as John complimented him on Paradise. Tony cocked a bushy brow, as if trying to decide if John was trying to be sarcastic and funny. Valihboy? Damn nice? The chipping, pale pink paint on the walls? The cracked sidewalks? The small lizards darting about? Half the doors not having operating locks? The graffiti splashing the back of the building? The trash sprinkling the complex lot?

Tony could do nothing but chuckle and shake his head of whispy, thinning hair. "Son, you've got a lot to learn about America." He said, good heartedly as he clapped John on the shoulder and chuckled some more. "Welcome to Paradise."

~~~~~~~

Rowen glanced at the offered gum for a brief second, her thoughts processing why gum would be an okay thing to offer instead of a cigarette, then shaking her head. "Nah." Was the curt, dry throat reply.

Of course, Rowen was sharing none of Jane's minor heebie geebies. She didn't glance once up at Debra, just knew she was there. Debra was always there. Rowen just didn't feel like putting on a show for the woman today. She wasn't worried about turning her back and being jumped, though it was a fair enough concern. In fact, Rowen seemed much less on edge being here than where they'd found her. This was home.

She stuffed her hands into the pockets of Drake's jacket, shuffling a bit closer to the apartment next to the rusted staircase, the one the cheap, white lawn chair was posted in front of. Rowen seemed to assume Jane was going to be tearing ass out of here as soon as Rowen was a safe distance from the car, and appeared a little stumped when Jane called to her again. She turned to look over a shoulder at Jane, glancing her up and down once again, as if trying to size up intentions and true emotions.

You going to be alright here?

The question made her snort in amusement, a half grin cracking her jaw.
"Yeah, I'll be just peachy-keen." She assured. "But feel free to stop by whenever, lady, an' let me get a better look at ya when I've got two working eyeballs. Keep in mind what I said about me an' trouble bein' pals though. You're inviting trouble, hangin' around me." Rowen warned, the slight grin curling into a more devilish one.

"But hey, maybe trouble is your thing." The words sounded casual enough, yet also hovered somewhere between a dare or a dangerous flirt. A single shoulder shrugged, and sent a sharp owwie down her back, but she didn't outwardly acknowledge it as she turned to bare footedly hobble up to room 134.

God damn, she needed a cigarette.
John sheepishly thanked McClaine and headed up to his room, #203. He went up only to see a bare 3-room apartment with a wooden bed-frame, kitchen, bathroom, table and chairs. John paused for a moment and briefly reflected on what he had gotten himself into. He shrugged his shoulders. Que sera sera. He had the 钱 to make his life comfortable and he could afford the place without a roommate. He pulled his sleeping bag out of his backpack, unrolled it and lay down.

5 minutes later, the voice of ShiGGa Shay was blasting through the building. The Lion City Kia was in the house.

Welcome to Lion City, where we grew up HDB
Party on River Valley with all of my Karung Gunis
Brother come and holla at me if you need some kang taos
Though everybody here, only listen to Jay Chou
Wah Lau!
Homie gotta pronounce my name right
Shaggy, Shiggay? leh see gong simi pang sai?!
Now what time? Issit my time? Issit grind time? Issit shine time?
Got the whole world and your team and they all throwin’ up my sign
My crew too loud, you may never learn to like us
We the hottest in town, every Oven wanna buy us
Sorry we are too bias - don’t like it you are a Cow
All of my Ah Bengs will throw you haters a Pau
But yo I like it like that, homie how that drum sound?
Word to everybody that was born and raised in Queenstown
I can kiao ka, and still look fly
You got a face that look like you searching for Wifi
It’s in my blood to talk cock and sing song
I bet everyone gon’ have this whistle as a ringtone
Ding dong, but it’s not about the cheques bro
I love music but homie I really hate techno
People talk too much but never have nuts to show
Live & die, Red & White, song bo?

(Chorus)X2:
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Grizzle Grind Crew tear the roof in ya city ha

(Verse 2): ShiGGa Shay
Ang gu gui on my fist, and they wanna grab my piss
I’mma get Grizzle Grind Crew tatted on my wrist
Too damn easy, when I floss I’m awesome
Never been to school like the homie Jon Hopkins
Shoutout to my Ah Bengs, Matreps and Anjiks
Shoutout to all my girls that be lookin’ so Cantik
So shake ya behind for the Wang Weiliang
Brother le ah si zu pattern, wah dio hou lu Wah Piang
Err’body know ya boy is so tongkok
I can even lim kopi with your ah kong
乱讲话 Imma slap you with my Mahjong
Surgery rhymes shoutout to Ben Koh from Katong

(Chorus):
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Grizzle Grind Crew tear the roof in ya city ha

(Verse 3): LINEATH
Yeah I float like a Butterfly, sting like a bee
And your hands can't hit what your eyes can't see
Yeah I'm ridin’ with the beat rep that GGC
Got a different kinda OG man you will see
I call em' miiiiiiiiiiiiiiiike (Aye மக்கல்ஸ் where you at?!)
தமிழ் மக்கல்ஸ் எள்ளாம் கூடி வந்து சேருங்கெ
நான் என்னத்தெப் பன்னப் போரேண் இங்கே நல்லா கேலுங்கெ
இது வந்து தக்கடதிம்திம் தொம் தொம், ஐயா என்னா சொல்ர்ரிங்கெ?
பலவிதமாண மனம் துகுதுகு சடுகுடு பல பாட்டு பாட, யா! எங்கே போரிங்கெ?!
Rap magician - இந்த nation's ரகசியம்
And your hands can't hit it if your eyes can't see em - BARS

(Chorus):
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Grizzle Grind Crew tear the roof in ya city ha

(Verse 4): Akeem
Born & raised Lion City Kia
Woodlands, siapa lagi raja sini sia
GID money macam budak jalan barang
It’s GGC double X satu palang
Jangan action badang, kita tak takut
Kalau 'ampai' lai kita tak cabut
Songkok atas hoodie hitam sachok tak boleh angs
Never been in love but we always gettin drunk
Idol nombo satu korg macam Taufik Batisah
Girls always downna ride, ariba ariba
Ek ah, sap sap sway
Swag buat haters say Walau eh

(Chorus)X2:
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Born & Raised Lion City Kia
Grizzle Grind Crew tear the roof in ya city ha


((ooc: sorry if tldr, I just wanted to put the lyrics up. Here's the link if you feel like watching the mv: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zx3tFw4JOFY))
(Skip me for a bit guys. Sorry. Last few days have sucked. Assume that Drake assisted Rowen at least to her door with possibly just a sturdy hand or shoulder for her to lean on then headed to his apartment to avoid that sunrise. Whether or not she surrenders the jacket back or holds onto it for a bit is entirely up to you. Again, I'm really sorry. IRL sucks right now bad..)
(Would anyone like to skip to the next day?)
Rowen said she'd be alright and Jane didn't entirely believe her but also didn't know her well enough to call her out on it. For now, it'd have to be enough that she'd helped Rowen get home to the... relative safety... of Paradise Apartments. She could hear loud music coming from somewhere in the complex now and she decided it was maybe best if she beat feet, letting Rowen and Drake and whoever take care of what came next.

"Maybe later, once you've rested up." Jane answered Rowen's invitation in that insincere way that suggested she probably wouldn't come back to these apartments willingly. "I hope you feel better."

She smiled at Rowen's comment about being a trouble magnet but didn't know what else to say. Rowen was heading to her room, presumably, and Drake looked like he was going to follow. The third guy... Jane had no idea where he'd gone. So she waved goodbye to Rowen's back, got into her car, and got out of the hood before she got mugged here.

((Will have Jane come back the next day, I'm not writing her out of the apartments as a whole))
May 31st, 2018 at about noon.

Rowen sat on her ratty, old, navy blue couch in her living room, where faded sunlight poured through the gaps in her blinds to slash the smoke hazy room in horizontal strips of pale orange. A lit cigarette was held between her index and middle finger, smoking itself away idly while her hand laid casually across her slender stomach, her other picking at the scabs that had crusted the split in her lower lip. Her big, almond shaped eyes were half lidded, well one was, the other was still swollen shut with purple flesh, dark lashes almost brushing her high sitting cheek bones. The eyeball beneath the heavy, but openable lid looked glassy and a little blood shot and it was settled upon a box TV set across the room from the couch, but didn't seem to be actually watching the cartoons that were playing. A small collection of brown Budweiser bottles was sitting on the wooden coffee table in front of her, which brandished a few stab wounds and stains, along with a pretty full, glass ashtray. A big bottle of Jack with only about a quarter of pungent liquid left also sat upon the table, like the crown jewel of the shit show. Beside the bottle of Jack was a brown, wooden box that her brother had made for her in woodshop, ha, when they’d still been going to school. It had his name for her, ‘Ruin’, carved into the lid. There was a little stash of goodies inside, including needles, little plastic baggies of substances, large rubberbands, a dirty looking spoon and mini ziplocks of pills in a rainbow of colors.

It wasn't until a sharp bang from someone dropping something in the apartment upstairs that Rowen seemed to come to. She jumped rather dramatically at the sound, then blinked a few times, clearing the fogginess from her gaze.
"Shit," She muttered, while rubbing her good eye with her cigarette free hand and smacking her chunky, chapped lips together, "Thirsty." Standing from the worn out, tired looking couch, she snuffed the cigarette butt out in the ashtray and made her way towards the fridge, and more beer. She walked stiffly, her body rather sore from last night misadventures. Bruises still bloomed and blossomed like grisly spring flowers all over her, but they seemed less inflamed now. Though her body still felt it, last night was far from her mind. In her brainscape of clouds and fog and blissful numbness, last night didn’t exist. She was floating, too high for the demons and nightmares to reach.