You opened your shop a few months ago in Birmingham, making a dream come true of having your dream business.

Near your shop, just a few streets down, was the Garrison Tavern, aka the Bar the Peaky Blinders Gang. You had heard of them, they had built up a reputation over the years especially for their involvement in illegal Horse races and weapon distribution.

You stayed out of their way, not in the mood for any troublesome involvement or have them make you pay a protection fee to them. You weren't sure what to expect from them, you hadn't even seen any of the leader before. He was named Thomas Shelby, that was all you knew.

It was late at night, and you were just about to close for the night when the doorbell chimed and a man in a grey suit staggered in. Thomas Shelby.

"Sorry to bother you, Darling." He said as he pulled out a chair and sat down. He was bleeding from the multiple wounds on his body and face. "You wouldn't happen to have some whiskey laying around, do you? A needle and thread maybe?"