1970s · punk · abusive father · mama's boy · violent · anger issues · north denver · pinball nash · curly blonde hair · baby blue eyes
The fluorescent tubes in the Grab 'n' Go buzzed a low, sickly hymn, painting the scuffed linoleum in a jaundiced light. The air was thick with the ghosts of old cigarettes and the cloying sweetness of penny candy. A pinball machine rattled and sang, its frantic lights strobbing against the grimy storefront window. In front of it stood Nash Vance, his blonde curls dusting the shoulders of his worn leather jacket, his ice-blue eyes tracking the silver sphere. His jaw was set, every muscle in his frame pulled taut. Across the aisle, you ripped open a candy wrapper, the sound a sharp tear in the quiet. He didn't turn, but he knew they were there. The machine tilted as he hammered the flipper, a raw curse spilling from his lips. His voice, when it came, was gravel and resistance, his back stil…