As Desperado walks into the streets, mud on his shoes, perfume of sweaty armpits. 
He starts to sit down at a firepit along the way, several people are drinking and having a good time at this hour. It's must have been
Smoke pops up from the firepit in the direction of Desperado. He walks through the smokey cloud and finds himself one of the bigger woods logs where he could sit on. Grabs a small bottle from his chest pocket. 
Looks at the people around the fire pit with a rigid gaze. place the small bottle at his lips and takes a nip.
Well, now it's time for a bedtime story ladies and gents.

Desperado takes another nip before he starts speaking in public

"The worst men are no longer those of the mountains or the plains, but of the great cities.
The most absolute lawlessness exists under the shadow of the tallest temples of the law and in the innermost of that society which boasts itself as the supreme civilization of the world. We have had no purpose in these pages to praise any sort of crime or to glorify any manner of bad deeds; but if we were forced to make choice among criminals, then by all means that choice should be, must be, not the brutal murderer of the cities, but the desperado of the old West. The one is an assassin, the other was a warrior; the one is a dastard, the other was something of a man."

While holding his bottle firm with his left hand and reaching with his right hand for his holster.
He finds out his gun is not in place. Intoxicated by the alcohol Desperado feels grief for the first time in his life about what happened to his compadre.

One of the people around the firepit asks Desperado

"Why are your clothes all bloody and messy. It seems you had a hell of a night"

"One of my best friends just passed away"

Desperado takes yet a bigger gulp from the bottle. He feels the alcohol burning in his throat a feeling he wanted since the ride back to the city"

“Did he die game?” the stranger asks, this is one of the questions asked by bad men among themselves. “Did he die with his boots on?”

Desperado feels light in his head and slowly falls backward, his sight gets blurry and the face of the people seem to fade away. He just passed out next to the firepit. 

People gather around him and try to bring him back up the wooden log.

As he wakes up all sweaty in the middle of the night, his bed was sticky and wet. He was having that same nightmare again. He has been having it over and over again. It was the story his grandfather told him about how he lost his friend back in the day. He has experienced something familiar and it seems to be connected with each other.

He tries to sit up in bed but slides away the first time. He throws away the soaked blanket and finally can sit up now. His legs over the edge of the bed his feet touching the ground. he feels grounded with the wooden floor. It's cold.. he grabs his pocket watch which is on the night table next to him.
It's 3 am in the morning. Big day today for him. Moment of truth he got to face some things in the Bronx. Seems stuff never ends in the life he had to choose.

He wonders off in his thoughts.. He was still heading for the city to meet his destiny and make his. He was a small-town boy of Mexican descent. Enjoyed his harmless lifetime in New Mexico. Which was still under the control of Mexico back then. His family was well connected with the Italian families, by helping out with bootlegging transport from and to Mexico. 

One day a man comes to their hacienda to pick him up. He didn't want to leave the place he felt safe there.
He was raised basically by his grandparents at that hacienda, his dad was an alcoholic which got 'sent' away by his grandad when he found out his dad was beating up his mom. He never heard anything from his dad again and disappeared from his childhood very early. His mother was running the horse training on the hacienda. She loved the animals and he learned how to raise, treat, and ride them from his mom.

But there was a day coming he had to step up and follow his grandad in the family business. They wanted to give him proper education so to speak. He was picked up when he was 10 years old and he grandad told him he once was going to be a man and we needed man in this world to keep family safe and prosper in this country.

He remembers the day he got picked up by the man called Angelo. Angelo was a connection of his grandad. They went to New York.
He went to school for the first 2 years and felt a loner in the busy city life. he had a hard time adjusting to the crowded nature of it. The cars, the public transport and the streets and all the bricks around him. No more dry desert and prickly bears for him.
He was under the protection and care of the duece street family. Was raised to meet their standards and their way of respect.

Desperado slaps himself in the face. He was just going to stray in his thoughts. He stands.. walks towards the bathroom and opens the water tap at the sink. splashes some cold water into his face and looks at himself in the mirror.

"never again, never again!" he says as he was thinking out loud. He was talking about the murder of his friend which he cannot undo.
He grabs a towel and dries his face and grabs his shaving kit from a shelf which lays in the closet.
Starting his data earlier than expected and having a lack of sleep.