((This will be a representation in words of Nicky's thoughts. Thus it might seem slightly confusing, or perfectly logical, or at times even completely beyond comprehension. Its not written anywhere IC, so whatever you learn by reading this cannot be used IC.

Also, its the first time I try writing in this fashion, I usually go for a narrative of my characters' life. So I would appreciate any feedback (especially constructive criticism) on how to make it better. Thanks and I hope you enjoy.))
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I - *First night in Hathian as Nicky lays on a bed in Master Bates Inn and reflects.*

Run-down.
Dangerous.
Secretive.
Quiet... too quiet.

What sort of place did I land myself into? Am I crazy coming here? Or perhaps... perhaps I'm a complete fucking genius. Still... the only positive thing I can think of about this place is that its not San Francisco. That it's far from San Francisco. Very far. Good enough, for now. Damn... I'm tired. Crossing from West to East coast in four days using only public transport and your feet ain't exactly a walk in in the park.

First stop was Bakersfield.

From there I would've gone down to Los Angeles and look for dad. I haven't heard anything from the man in four long years... but as far as I knew he worked in LA for a Cosa Nostra organisation. But that would've been dumb. I realise it now. The SFPD know who my father is. If they are looking for me to question me about the gruesome murders of the five sons of bitches who raped ma and killed her, that would be the first place they'd look for me in.

No, I needed a farther place to hide. Somewhere with no ties to me or my family, somewhere far and dark - it is easier to hide in the dark. That's why I trudged on.. hitching rides and taking buses, trains and whatever other sorts of transport was available at the time.

And here I am. Hard to think of a place any darker than this. Who the fuck had ever even heard of Hathian before? Perfect place to lay low...

Perfect place to disappear and be found dead in a ditch though too, it seems.

Can't let that happen. Too young to die. But one is never too young to die. Well I don't deserve to die! Murderers deserve death. Shut up, I'm no murderer. But you DID commit murder. No... It was the right thing to do. It was righteous vengeance.

I am no murderer.

...

So... what do I do now? I got here without any trouble or without being followed. I made sure of that. My neck is still sore from looking over my shoulder all the goddamn time. First things first, I need to get this bag somewhere safe. Running around with over two hundred big ones ain't smart. Especially in a place like this.

Can't put it in a bank account. That much money would require too many questions to be answered. A confidential, trustworthy Safety Deposit Box Bank is what I need. One that is based on customer secrecy, that does not ask or check what their customers hide in their safe boxes. One that does not share any information. To anyone. There's bound to be one nearby.

Probably not in the city of Hathian, but in a neighbouring one... sure. Better out of the city - somewhere where nobody would get to know me and see me everyday. Safer that way. I would keep some wherever I stay, hidden. Not much, just enough. Even less on my person - not safe to run around with much in a place like this. Not safe at all.

Lucky chance that was... finding the bastards as they prepared to go buy a huge shipment of drugs. Oh... so you do enjoy murder. It can be profitable... can't it? I didn't enjoy killing those men. LIAR! Alright... I did enjoy it. But I am not a bloodthirsty murderer who kills for fun. I enjoyed it because they had raped and killed ma. Same difference... you still enjoyed it. What's done is done, I must collect the pieces and move on. Ha! Here you are speaking to yourself like a character in some cheesy soap opera. Shut up!

Yes... safety deposit box. Out of town. Good idea. What then?

Only two options really -

Be a ghost, stand in the shadows, keep away from everyone and everything. Lay lower than a bear in hibernation. But then again... it's a dangerous place. Poverty and corruption... perversion even. Damn... I can almost smell it, it reeks so bad. Or maybe that's the mattress? Anyways, whatever I do here, even if I do nothing, I'm going to be a target. People in places like this don't need a reason to attack you. Some people enjoy it. And who will I turn to if I am targeted? The Police? If they're corrupt they won't care. If they're not corrupt, they would find out SFPD is looking for me and hand me over. No...

I have no option. Only one way to go -

Make friends. Hmph. Gotta change my terminology. Make acquaintances. No... contacts. Place like this is bound to be full of gangs. Hopefully they're not all black gangs. Gotta find me a gang more similar to me, if I am to fit in. More similar to my raising. To my family. To my father. I wonder... does the long arm of Cosa Nostra reach into shitholes like this? Doubt it. And yet, there could still be something similar. Bound to be some fellow Italians in this neighourhood with the balls and wits to group up and protect their own.

Besides... I could never live in the shadows for too long. I'm too used to being in the middle of the spotlight.

Spotlights.
Cheering crowds on the stands.
Turf underneath my spiked shoes.
Bars infront of my face. But not bad bars... protective bars.
Happy times. Glorious times...

*And Nicky fell asleep dreaming of his college football days.*
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