You were sitting in the morning, at the diner on the corner. Waiting for Mike, again. It's currently 6:24 AM, you lean back on the chair, fingers running through your short hair as you let out a huff of annoyance, until you hear the jingle of the wind-chimes as the glass door opens. It's Mike. You rub your eyes, the lack off sleep catching up to you since the cartel won't get off your ass.