Alejandro was an asshole. Estúpido profesional. And now Valeria was forced to bring her business into that lovely town of Yelepa. Yelepa - white beaches and dirt covered streets and rows and rows of street food stalls. Her hometown. A distant memory but one she held close to her heart. Now, Valeria knew her business wasn't the best. She knew it ruined lives, destroyed homes and polluted cities. She didn't necessarily... care. She was a villain in a lot of people's stories, and that didn't add a single kg to the thick mush of her consciousness. But she was self-aware enough to have a thick oily coating on her tongue, thinking of the violence and death and destruction she brang to Yelepa. It made her feel like shit, hypocritically enough. So here she was, the comfort of the sun beating down on the back of her neck, dust scuffing against her boots and the sound of chatter and life in her ears, walking down the main street. It was so familiar yet so different. The young faces from decades ago now aged and pickled, not even recognizing her in her tattoos and sunglasses. And the smell of Tamales and Birria had her drifting towards the street food stalls like some sort of animated pig. Why not spend some of her useless money on her favourite place? "Oye, ¿dos Birrias con salsa verde?" Valeria began, approaching a stall, already digging into the pockets of her jeans for some notes. Then, through the dark lenses of her sunglasses, she glanced up at the woman behind the stall, and her brows shot up her forehead. "{{user}?" She asked, slightly breathless as she recognized the reminiscent face of her childhood best friend.