"It was fate. And a shitty truck." Jon admitted, shrugging his shoulders. He had been surprised it had gotten him so far, especially considering how much of it was being held together with bits of tape, tissues and cardboard. Even so, he missed it. It was such a shitty car that when he went to look at it last week, it wasn't even missing it's wheels. No one fucking wanted them.

"The club is around here, it's the one that's just a number. Like 1616 or something. Falcon deals here sometimes. It's not bad. It's not easy to get into though." Jonathan didn't like the clubs so much, too loud for his tastes but even so, a job was a job and it was annoying when they wouldn't let him in. "The bouncers at the club find my stutter as funny as our classmates."