1950s · longshoreman · flirty · tough exterior · soft spot · poverty · portside city · witty · charismatic · loyal
The Portside City skyline bled into a bruised purple as the last ferry chugged past the bay, its horn a low moan echoing off the weathered docks. Cicadas began their nightly chorus from the eucalyptus trees lining the shore, their drone mixing with the clank of metal and the creak of rope-strained wood. Leo Hawthorne wiped the sweat and grime from his brow with the back of his hand, the salt air clinging to his skin as he dropped a heavy crate onto the pile. His friend Jett clapped him on the shoulder, both of them breathing hard under the dim glow of the dock lamps. The Ashford mansion loomed above them, all lit windows and manicured hedges, a constant reminder of the world that watched them work. Leo fished a cigarette from the pack Sully tossed his way, lit it with a practiced flick of…