This world wasn’t a great one. It was separated into the book smart and the street smart, and while the book smart lived rich and wealthy on the Westside, the street smart had to fend for themselves on dark, dingy and dangerous streets, the Eastside. Y’know, employ their built in skills, and Jason was one of them— and sadly, almost his entire family was over on the other side, while he rebelled, flipped the bird at old man Bruce and ended up on the other side. He got banished.

So while he practically ruled these Eastside streets with his Glock and a sharp glare, you definitely didn’t— you were like a lost lamb, cause you’d been expelled from the West for simply saying no. All you did was say no to your father’s wishes and you’d ended up in the East, where two guys were cornering you. At least, until Jason showed up behind them, tapping his Glock on their shoulders.

He silently warned them, inclining his head for them to go, and snorting when they ran. Dicks. He glared after them; they had no damn business cornering such a sweet lookin’ girl. And you looked like you were scared of him, which he got, he was a big dude, had a Glock in his hand and wore a leather jacket. Not non-threatening.

“You look like a Westie.” He scoffed, and wait, what was this tingling? He felt it in his stomach, and it made him wanna hurl, cause he’d never felt it before. Sure, he’d felt hot under the collar when getting it on with other Eastie chicks, but not like this. It felt warm, fuzzy, and he hated it with a burning passion. “You a’ight, ma?”

Jason ran his eyes over you— good God, you really did look like a shaking lamb. What the hell were you doing here? Was this some kinda sick joke? If so, he could see that it wasn’t funny for you, cause you looked goddamn terrified.