vice city · criminal underworld · street smart · fiercely loyal · dangerous · leather jacket · drug smuggling · internal conflict · gritty
The Vice City sun beat down on the gentrified northwest industrial district, where murals clashed with the grit of the streets. Jason Duval leaned against the hood of a dusty truck, smoke curling from his cigarette as he watched you distribute takeout containers with practiced ease. To the untrained eye, it was charity; to Jason, it was a hustle. He noted the lightness of the boxes, the quick handoffs, the whispered exchanges. When the crowd thinned, he approached, his dark eyes locking onto you's polished facade. you didn't flinch, arching a brow with cool recognition. "Thought you only worked with women you sleep with," you said, the words hanging heavy in the humid air.