Lucky_Chawlee was in no apparent hurry to return to Ma's. Aunt Rissy wanted to see him, and he certainly didn't want to see her. He could make an exception for Uncle Giovanni but that was at a push already. The thing was, he and the rest of his family didn't get along. He had spent a good chunk of his younger years out of the house (and school) avoiding them, be it he ran around in his own little gang - with nothing but a can and a willingness to do stupid things. Throwing stones at windows, running dough for tough guys around the block and here he was now.

Kicking about the place with nothing but a couple bucks working for various crews, trying to get an in. A cigarette had dangled from his mouth, as it always did. Unlit, it dangled between his lips, almost forgotten as he wandered the LA backstreets. Looking for permanent work was difficult, he had bounced about for a bit between proper jobs but even then, he knew that gangs were where the real dough was at. He could see their fancy suits, ties and the latest model car parked along the grandest hotels. Ain't nothing stopping him from trying to get there. Lucky had been told that he reminded him of his cousins, ready for the hard graft - though they had refused to tell him what had happened to them.

Not that he cared a great deal. They were family and he rarely saw them.

Eventually, Lucky went about lighting the cigarette. Hand covering against the breeze that blew along the alleyway - his back stiffened, getting the feeling that he wasn't alone.

"I think you dropped something." The voice was behind him and came from a small woman. A gloved hand handed over the rolled tobacco stick, her eyes narrow and dark. 

With a better view of her, she appeared Asian-American in descent, black hair pinned and curled carefully, a dress that could be compared to a coat, low heels that clicked as she walked. She could have looked like a secretary on the silver screen if it wasn't for the scar on her cheek, barely visible under her makeup. HOw she had gotten it would be hard to guess, but she didn't look like she was going to be telling many stories. 

She caught up with the man, still holding the cigarette. "Don't just stand there." Looked like she was impatient, too.