(Fixed Version)

Kendrick sits alone at a bar. Fingers wrapped around a wet whiskey glass, half full with Malt liquor and slightly melted ice cubes. Dressed in a custom fit overcoat and dress shirt. A smooth brown wool felt fedora with black strip around it just above the brim sat on the bar. Dark gray slacks with a fine leather belt. Some form of a chain attached to his belt loop. He seems to be reflecting in the midst of a Chicago bar. A individual shrouded by their clothing sips themselves onto a stool beside Kendrick. Their eye's not shown, covered by a hat. Their face, much like their body from a slide glance was all the same. Generic. 

The day was dragging it's self out and it was simply just going to keep dragging like this. Where was this contact he'd been asked to meet. This person who was so interested and was dying to hear what it was that made him who he was. But just as he started to even think on it, a slim figure sat beside him. Maybe it was because he chose not to, but he couldn't even make it, mostly because he was too sunk into his own mind to be bothered. Assumptions were the downfall of man and this wasn't any different here.

"So. Your here, thinking that I'm going to bring you something new, something that was out of the norm that made me so reputable. Well I'd not even call me reputable. I've been around a while, I've seen things and done what was asked of me. That's all I've ever done. There's nothing special about me. Where I come form, it's like what they call over here another tale of woe." He paused for a moment, downing the last of his drink. "Look, you had your friend contact me, and paid for time. So your gonna' get your tale, but I'm telling you now. It's a wast of ya' money."His eyes strayed from the table and started looking around. Something felt wrong but his body language remained calm and collected. 

"Now I know you want to think that I'm here to tell you some sort of story. Perhaps one that will torture your thoughts by day, and poison your dreams by night. Or maybe you seek some sort of redeeming tale of me growing up with parents who were tormentors or to high to care for me so this is why I am here, where I am today. You want to think that maybe I'm not like the rest of them, that I cared, or had no other option. But sadly it's nothing like that. But I'll still indulge you for the info you seek."

"Now for you to understand anything about who I am. There's two things you gotta' and I mean really need to understand to get any of this. It's where I come from and who I am. First, I never really wanted to be here, my dream was always to make poetry. But the other part is that you've probably never strayed outside of the main parts of California when you went to visit. There's two places that exist pretty close together and since no one ever seems to care about Watts, we're lumped in with the well know part of the area Compton. Compton is known for it's violence, and the way people are left to their devices when they can't make the line of what the government calls ends meet. Many of people like the men and women we do work with exist with live out there. Things are much more wild west out there, no such thing as a family or rules. It's a eat or get eaten type of world. Like today, nothing ever came easy, nothing was ever just a slice of cake without having to work on it. People that come from Compton sometimes fall under this guise that if it provides safety or any form of comfort, it should be outcast. People there don't seek peace in times of war, they fear not death, they promote it. One of the most famous mottos you can be hear when dealing with cops or in the heat of gunfire is 'We don't give a fuck'. The mindset is not something that breeds peace or longevity but rather chaos. That if not checked will be the downfall of such a great town." Dot paused, picking up his refilled glass, wetting his lips and catching his breath to himself before going on. "And before you even ask, I know. 'What in the world dose this have to do with anything about where you are and what you've done as a criminal'. My response....everything. While it was hard to find a balance, one of the first rules to doing anything in life, is to embrace this thought that is deep rooted in many different words and ways by some of Compton's finest. 'All strange and terrible events are welcome, but comfort we despise'. Everything I've said sounds like a contradictory statement, maybe. But when your told by even all the people you look up to that you'll never be nothing more than what you are, that you are to never escape this cycle of kill or be killed. You must welcome pain and suffering as a friend before you can deal with it like a problem. Least that's what I told myself the first time I ever killed a man...."Again picking up his drink and knocking back the last of it, he sat in silence before getting up. "You want more, you come back again, same time, same place. Next week." The King picked up his hat and adjusted it atop his head, tipping it to the figure beside him before walking off into the nightlife of what is Chicago.

(Resumed in Chapter 1: A loss of Childhood, A gained sense of Hope.)

WoonDa joins Capo Kendrick for a drink in the bar, ordering a Mezcal bottle and a couple of limes with salt.

"Do you already feel that bored, with everything you have lived and survived?" he asks before seeing him leave the bar.