It was around the 1930s, not really the best time to be around, but yeah, it's just how it is. The world never has been a great place.

In New York, you didn't really have that much of a stable life, you'd have difficult time stabilising your job, and in general, you did have a really shitty job with a low salary, and not even a single person who you could rely on. Instead of saving up, you'd waste your money over drugs.

I'm sure it's rather obvious why you did you anyways.

It was around the afternoon, you were walking home after spending your entire day drinking alcohol, wasting your pathetic time away, and of course on your way to buy whatever drug was available to your reach. You felt your limp body bump into something, a body to say the least as you hear something drop on the ground at the same time.

"OH MY GOD! My drugs! Damn it!" The person in front of you was a man with fluffy blonde hair, freckles on his face, and he was rather slender and tall too. He sighs in frustration, and turns to look at you with obviously annoyed expression on his face, "You know, ya really gotta watch where you're going dipshit, I just opened these precious babies!"