Chapter One
All Problems Have a Beginning
'As long as people believe in absurdities, they will continue to commit atrocities.'
- Voltaire
Wayfare; City Hall
Mail; there was so much of it, sprawled from one end of the mayor's desk to the opposite end. The worst part about it was that it was all complaints, every single piece. The woman sitting at her desk acting as mayor sighed heavily, dropping her head on to the desk before her, hurting her forehead. Instead of reacting to the pain ringing through her head, she groaned and lifted her head, looking at the mail and closing her eyes. When she reopened her eyes, to her misfortune, the mail was still there. She'd been hoping that closing her eyes and reopening them would tell her it was all a hallucination, but apparently there was no luck on her end of the draw this evening. Thus, a sigh escaped her lips and she sat back in her hard, wooden chair. A hand touched her brunette hair, running through its length.
It had been a long and boring day for Roxy Armata; Mayor in the city of Wayfare. She hadn't even been bugged by her secretary; who was more like an assistant to be honest. Roxy sighed, looking towards the entrance of her office as the door was knocked on. She raised an eyebrow curiously as it was opened without her conveying the okay to come inside. To her own dismay, it was none other than a man she loathed; Richard Preston. He, at one point, used to be the mayor of the city, but had been removed from office after a troubling matter had occurred. Now he dropped by to harass Roxy in to thinking she shouldn't be in office and that he should be running Wayfare as opposed to the nearby city, Hortons. Roxy never caved though, she always had him removed from her office and would continue on with her day. Yet, today was different. There was a snow storm going on outside and the man had still bothered to come and see her. Why was that?
"Good evening, Roxanne," Richard said, shutting the door behind him as he entered her pale white office. He approached her as Roxy sat there idly, watching as he took a seat on the other side of her desk, across from her. His arms crossed around his stomach area while Roxy adjusted herself in her own chair, ignoring the name he had called her. "Oh, my mistake. Just Roxy, isn't it? Roxanne is my secretary, it's funny how I confuse your names, don't you think?" Richard gave off a phoney laugh that made Roxy feel sick to her stomach. The man didn't confuse their names or anything; he was just a heartless prick.
"Just get on with it, Preston, why are you here?" Roxy said in more of a hostile tone. A tone she saved specifically for this man, this thing, before her. She didn't like the smile that was now plastered on his face and her eyes narrowed. Just what the heck was the man thinking that could make him come all the way to Wayfare to sit in her office and tell her face-to-face? Couldn't they just do the usual and annoy each other via telephone? Apparently not.
"There, there, Roxy. No need to be so touchy about my presence," Richard gave off a light chuckle and the sound of it curled Roxy's expression in to a very unhappy one. "I'm here because I thought we should discuss the gang problem that has not seen any change, aren't I right?" Roxy groaned. This was why he was here? To talk about the gang problems again? Didn't this man have a life? But she watched his facial expression carefully, trying to read his thoughts and failing miserably.
"I assure you that the issue in relation to gangs has decreased immensely since I have come in to office, Preston. Now, as always, I would kindly ask that you leave the premises," Richard sighed at Roxy's response. He was always trying to smoke her out by bringing up the gang issues, but it never worked. Roxy was not stupid enough to allow Richard Preston another chance to return to office; not even for a day. The man would run the town back into the ground, back into what it used to be. The thought of this was disgusting enough. Roxy didn't want it actually being lived out to the real thing.
Richard raised his hands in defence to what Roxy was saying, "Ah, yes. Your usual speech to me, isn't it? How things are changing? Why don't you just turn the leaf back over to what it used to be, darling, you aren't fooling anyone but yourself." Roxy's fists clenched and Richard noticed this immediately, grinning once again, "I think it's about time we end this charade and you return what isn't yours back to who it belongs to."
Roxy's fists came clambering down on to her desk, causing Preston to jump a bit, but not enough for Roxy to notice, "Get the hell out of my office, right now!" she demanded, her voice filled with anger. Preston's eyes rolled and he stood up, slowly though. "And don't you dare come back next time."
Richard knew that she wasn't joking, either. It was almost like a game to him, really. Cat and Mouse. Roxy was the mouse and Richard was the cat. No matter what happened, he would always win in the end, because the mouse has to come out eventually to eat; and when she does, he'd be waiting around the corner to catch her in the act. But Roxy would never see it coming, would she? A sly grin crossed his features as he nodded to Roxy, the grin on his face sickening deep down in the pit of her stomach.
Roxy could never understand why the man's smiles bugged her so much, but she didn't really care. All she knew was that the man was a complete asshole and needed to die. If she wasn't in the position she was now with being mayor of Wayfare and all, she would have killed him right then. Hell, she would have brutally murdered and tortured him a long, long time ago. But she didn't have that option, but her figure head position didn't stop her from daydreaming about Preston begging for his life at her fingertips. The thought was truly overwhelming and sent cheerful shivers up and down her spine, tingling her lower back. A laugh escaped her mouth as Richard Preston left her office, shutting the door behind him rather loudly. The man was truly insane; but Roxy couldn't help but wonder if she was any different.
Roxy realized she was still laughing and cupped a hand over her mouth in embarrassment. Well, that had surely been awkward for her. She sighed, dropping her hand after a moment of silence and turned to face her chair. As inviting as it was, her white coat slung over the back of it was more welcoming than anything at that point in time. She caved to her desires and grabbed the jacket, throwing it on in a somewhat angry manner, leaving the buttons open on the long, white winter jacket. She exited her office just in time for the power to go out. She groaned, "Jesus Christ!" she cried out. She heard a couple staff members fall and swear words fly around until the emergency lights finally came on. She sighed with relief, "Is everyone alright?" she called to those who she knew were around her.
"Yes, Roxy," came a voice to her right. Roxy looked in the direction as a flashlight came on and a familiar face appeared, Morris; head of her security detail. She smiled at him, nodding. He approached her, "I'll assume you're leaving?" Roxy nodded again, "Allow me to lend you some of my light." He gave her a light smile. Morris was older. He'd been working at city hall a hell of a lot longer than most of the staff Roxy could think of. He knew everything. And he was always trying to help her out. So, she took his arm as he guided her down the stairwell.
"Thank you, Morris. You're very kind," Roxy smiled as they walked together. Morris only chuckled lightly, rolling his eyes. She didn't notice though, she was to busy watching where they were walking. They reached the bottom of the set of stairs quickly and he led her to the front door of city hall, "I won't be taking the jeep just yet. I left it outside in the cold this time and it'll be stuck under god knows how much snow."
Morris chuckled, "Most likely. I'll keep watch over it for you," she nodded to this as they reached the front door and she opened it up, the cold hitting her like a ton of bricks. Roxy turned to face Morris who had the flashlight shining in an odd direction so it wasn't in her eyes. She nodded to him as he nodded to her, "Be safe, Roxy. I'll see you in the morning?" She nodded again, waving with the back of her hand as she left, trudging through the snow out front and out in to the main lot of city hall. She would walk home. It wasn't far to be honest. She heard the door click shut behind her and then a locking sound. Morris was being a safety man as always.
Roxy chuckled as she walked. It wasn't so bad since city hall was downtown and the snow wasn't as deep. She could only imagine what her street was like. The idea was rather frightening. Yet, now she was wondering who was wandering the streets as she reached the street sidewalk, walking in the direction of her home. In the midst of the wind and still falling snow, she could see a lit up sign and laughed. Preston's Bar. It was an ironic name considering the ex-mayor was Richard Preston. But the bar owner swears he had his bar up and going before Richard ever was Wayfare's mayor. Roxy believed him. She knew it had been up longer than that. She used to go there a long time ago.
Roxy decided then and there that she would go for a drink. She could use a drink after the Richard Preston encounter. She grinned at the irony again and picked up the pace. It took her a few minutes to reach the bar itself considering she was in her boots and the snow was high, but she didn't care. She placed her hand on the door and pushed it open after turning the knob. There was a chime above her head to signal she had entered. A couple set of eyes went in her direction and she ignored it, shutting the door behind her and walking to the furthest corner of the bar. There weren't many bodies in the bar at the moment and the ones that were there didn't seem to phase her one bit.
The bartender that was there recognized her instantly and she held up her right index finger and middle finger. The man behind the bar counter nodded and started preparing a drink. Yeah, she had been remembered alright. Her eyes went to the drink the second it made its way to her and she stared at it. It was going to be a long night. She could feel it deep inside her gut and it was burning like crazy. Or maybe it was the fact that during that whole thought she had downed half the glass of vodka, straight vodka? She hissed a sound out of her mouth and wiped at the corner with her hand, looking at the glass with a bit of a smirk, "Hello, old friend."
Wayfare; Lakeside Territory; Bar
Swirling the beer around the laid in his hands, his eyes drifted around the bar to see the different patrons drinking and trying to have a good time. He sighed, sitting up right on the stool, leaning his elbows against the bar and grasping the beer bottle with both hands, a childish grin playing across his face. The bartender looked at him strangely, and then rolled her eyes. Sean Sapphire was always this way. He grumbled softly, only to hear the door ring as someone entered. His head turned and his eyes met with a skinny brunette who was dressed a bit boyish for someone who was as good looking as her. She was tall, about his height; probably five foot nine. It was hard to tell with his state of mind. He'd had a couple drinks after all.
Sean's eyes followed the brunette in the white tank top and camouflage pants as she walked to the bar and took a seat a couple stools away from him. His eyes did not leave the pretty lady whose hair was down. It was long, just reaching below her shoulders. She was gorgeous and she probably didn't even know it, but Sean ignored this briefly, returning his attention back to his drink. How long had it been since he'd slept with someone? Ah, yes. He'd slept with his lady friend recently, but no one knew about his love affair with this woman. It was strange, really. Who knew having a love affair with someone who was single to begin with could be so troubling?
Sean shook his shoulders a bit, looking back at the woman who already had a man down her throat; not literally. This man was a complete grunge, eyeing her as she tried to enjoy her own damn beer. Sean couldn't help but smirk at the sight. He was about ready to stand and say something to the man when the lady turned and said to him, "Back off." But she had been polite about it, which was nice to hear in a Lakeside bar. Honestly, Sean was probably being an idiot drinking in a Lakeside bar considering he was of Mayhem descent and he was already receiving weird looks from people in the bar. It wasn't like people didn't know who he truly was; his face was a familiar one for most people.
Sean was the second in command of the Men of Mayhem in Wayfare; the downtown crew in a more direct way of looking at things. He yawned a bit, downing the rest of his beer and hearing a groan to his left. The man was at it again, making a pass at the cute girl. Sean's eyes rolled and he was standing as the girl spun around on her stool and socked the man over the head with her already empty beer bottle. He laughed and clapped his hands as other people in the bar followed suit. The man had fallen straight to the ground and was up on his feet in seconds, "You little bitch, you," the man groaned, turning and grumbling as he walked away. The girl laughed.
"Sean!" a voice said from his left. Sean paled when he looked and saw it was some blond girl and he couldn't remember who it was. Damn it. He really needed to stop sleeping around. But his thoughts went back to the girl in front of him as she was frowning and stepped in close to him, smacking him clean across the face, "You jackass! You never fucking called me back!" She was pissed and Sean couldn't blame her. He rarely called his conquests back, but he wasn't really like that. Sean just liked sex in general, so sleeping around with women helped him cure his little problem, but he remained silent as the woman glared at him, "UGH!" she cried out and stomped away from him.
Looking around the bar once more would reveal Sean had a lot of unwanted attention; including the cute girl sitting at the bar with a new beer. He laughed hesitantly and stumbled forward, making himself look drunk as stumbled out of the bar quickly and in to the snow storm just outside. He zipped up his black leather jacket, shivering in the process. He sighed, "This sucks majorly." It was a good twenty minute walk to get downtown and then about an hour from there to get to his own place. Ah hell, he could just stop at Baralai's, couldn't he? He shuddered a bit. Why did he have to leave the bar so abruptly? Damn Lakeside pricks hanging out in the bar. Lakeside Crew members would give anything to tear him a part and he knew this.
Sean found himself thinking about the woman again from the bar. She had really socked that man in the face, and it was highly unusual to see a woman doing such a thing; really odd. But then again, he was a member of the Men of Mayhem and they were built on destruction. This would be highly unusual for some people, and Sean respected this; most days. There was a time when he had tried to set fire to City Hall about a year ago and Roxy had come out with a shot gun trying to kill him. He would never forget the look on her face; it was hilarious.
A shiver was sent up and down Sean's back as he trudged through the snow, making his way towards Baralai's. He'd been walking for a while now, already in downtown Wayfare, and as he walked his mind wasn't really anywhere particular. He had thought about the good looking girl back at the Lakeside bar, but that had been about it for him. He just wanted out of the cold air. The brisk air. He shivered a bit as he rounded a corner on to Main Street. He was praying Baralai was at his usual main spot and not one of the safe houses. Sean hated trying to find him with a passion. And as he trotted up the snowy steps to Baralai's apartment, immediately kicking at the door with his foot, his arms frozen in a crossed position over his chest, he felt the sheet of white coating his body profusely. Damn snow.
To Sean's usual luck, the door swung open and he saw Baralai standing there. There was a grin on Baralai's face as he ushered him inside, causing Sean to roll his eyes at the man. He stepped inside though, welcoming the warmth. Baralai shut the door behind Sean, locking the cold wind out. His eyes went to the shivering Sean who had snow melting all over him. He grinned at the sight, "Well aren't you just a sight for sore eyes."
Sean's eyes rolled, his arms still frozen across his chest, "D-Do you have a b-blanket or something? That would be n-nice." Baralai nodded, leaving the main hall and heading down a narrow one that led to his bedroom. Sean, on the other hand, was slowly pulling his hands away from his chest as he removed his jacket, a bit wet underneath it on his arms. He groaned, hanging up the jacket on the doorknob behind him and looking back in the direction Baralai had gone as he pulled off his drenched shoes, pushing them aside. Baralai re-emerged, a blanket in one hand. Sean smirked, "I'm drenched."
Baralai couldn't help but chuckle at his helpless friend, "Yeah, I can see that captain obvious, but thanks anyway," Sean pushed at his shoulder upon hearing his comment, the smirk on his face turning in to a smile. Baralai returned it, throwing the blanket at Sean, who rolled his eyes, pulling it off of him, "You know, I own a dryer at this place. It's in the basement. I just don't really use it. I rarely have to use the machines."
Sean nodded, throwing the blanket on the couch as he still stood in the doorway while Baralai walked in to the living room of the small town home, sitting in his chair, looking at Sean, "What do you propose I do? Stand wrapped in a blanket nude? If you wanted me to be naked, Baralai, you could have just asked," a sly grin crossed his face and Baralai face palmed. Sean would say something like that. "I don't hear much denial coming from you!"
Baralai shot Sean a strange glance. The thing with Baralai was that he was bisexual and Sean knew this very well and chose to poke fun at it constantly in a friendly manner. But Baralai rarely played along; he usually ignored it or rolled his eyes. Sometimes he even punched Sean for it. Though, Sean was wise and never joked about it in front of others unless it was Regan, one of the rare female members of the Men of Mayhem. Sean knew Baralai would be torn to bits. It was a bad thing to be a man who was bisexual in Wayfare, "Sorry, Sean. I just don't see you that way, but hey, if you want to walk around naked like an idiot, be my guest."
Sean laughed, "Don't worry; I'll keep my boxers on just for you. It'll leave a little room for the imagination," he grinned as he left the room, taking the blanket with him. Baralai watched, rolling his eyes as Sean left, heading in to the basement. After he left the room, Baralai's eyes went to the main window, looking outside at the snow. The curtains were drawn, but not enough so that he couldn't see. He smiled at the falling snow, and then frowned. He had noticed the power was out on the opposite of the street, but his side was fine. He was glad about that. That way Sean would be able to dry his clothes. He sighed in the somewhat dark room. He only had one light on after all and it was across the room. A small desk-like lamp. It didn't give off much light.
Sean was downstairs already, stripped himself of his drench clothes. The shirt was easiest considering it was a black, button-up with long sleeves. He had on a white tank underneath and he had blue jeans on. He hated taking off the jeans. The most uncomfortable feeling in the world to Sean was the removal of wet jeans. He threw everything in the dryer but his boxers. They didn't seem to be that wet anyway, which was nice. He reached over and turned on the dryer, grabbing the blanket instantly and wrapping it around him. He made his way back upstairs, returning to the living room. Baralai laughed the second he entered and sat on the couch.
"How's your little cocoon there, Sean?" Baralai continued to laugh and Sean groaned, sinking in to the couch with his blanket. He was warm, he didn't care. His clothes would take a good twenty minutes to dry and he knew that. Baralai, on the other hand, was enjoying the sight for sore eyes in front of him. Being leader of the Men of Mayhem had nothing on what he was seeing right now. Sean was his second in command and looked like he was wrapped in a damn cocoon. He loved what he was seeing right now. It was hysterical.
The two both fell silent now. Sean could hear the rumbling of the dryer in the basement and so could Baralai. Sean sighed a bit at the same time as Baralai. They both looked at each other with odd grins, "How about we go for a drink after my clothes finish drying?" Baralai nodded and then grinned, causing Sean to look at his friend curiously. Now what?
"How about I leave you here and you can meet me there?" Of course Baralai would do that. Sean huffed and Baralai chuckled, "You know where the spare key is? Besides, I think I can walk down the street and make it over to the bar in one piece without you, Sean."
"You damn pansy just go if you're going to go," Sean smirked at Baralai who rolled his eyes in return and got up from his seat in the room. It wasn't that he didn't want to stay; it was that he felt so damn awkward with Sean in nothing but his boxers and wrapped up in a blanket. It made Baralai feel incredibly awkward and uncomfortable. He was trying hard not to think about it as he walked to the front door, grabbing his steel-toed black boots and undoing the laces. He looked to Sean who was still seated on the couch. "Jerk," he mumbled.
Baralai grinned, "Don't worry, darling. We will meet again soon enough if the fates will allow it," Sean cast a small glare at Baralai upon hearing this comment. He looked back at the ground, slumping over sideways in his warm blanket. Baralai laughed instantly, slipping on the boots and kneeling down on one knee to do up the first lace, "You'll survive." Sean only groaned in response as Baralai switched to the other knee and did up the second lace. He finished quickly and stood again, grabbing his jacket off the back of the door and slipping it on; a black leather jacket. It was thick and heavy. The jacket was perfect for the weather outside.
Sean closed his eyes as he laid on the couch, listening to the sounds of Velcro undoing itself and the redoing. He knew this meant Baralai was putting on his father's gauntlets. They meant a lot to him and Sean knew that. Kind of like a family heir loom or something he figured. But he listened as the door opened and he scarcely heard Baralai say something about seeing him there. He waved his hand at Baralai, not really caring. His hearing was focused on the soothing rumbling coming from the dryer in the basement. The second the damn thing buzzed to say it was done he was free. Sean would have dry clothes; warm dry clothes. He grinned at the thought, closing his eyes.
Baralai shrugged his shoulders as he left the town home, shutting the door behind him and shivering initially as he stepped outside. It was cold, really freaking cold. He ignored it though, trotting down the small steps and walking off towards Preston's. It was a Mayhem owned bar and where he and Sean always went for a drink. But as he approached the entrance of the bar not minutes later, he was greeted with an interesting presence as he pushed open the door, closing it behind him. Wayfare's mayor was sitting at a table by herself with three empty glasses in front of her. He glanced to the bar tender who smirked and shrugged at him. He sighed, waving his hand, signalling to bring him his usual beer.
Baralai took this opportunity in front of him and walked over to the table as Roxy lifted her head to see the man before her. By this time, the buzzer had gone off back at his place and Sean was struggling to put his clothes back on and running out the door, just about forgetting to lock it, but he remembered. Roxy nodded to Baralai as he sat down across from her, a cold beer being placed in front of him, "Good evening, mayor."
Wayfare; Lakeside Territory; Bar
Entering a bar in Lakeside area was not an unusual thing for most of the high class girls. Then again, Libya wasn't a high class girl - she didn't exactly dress like one either. Her white tank top and camouflage pants were evidence of this, but it didn't matter much to her. All that mattered was that she was comfortable. And she had been, right up until a man was standing next to her as she got a cold beer. She could tell by the direction of his eyes that he had his attention focused else where and not truly on her, "Hey sweet thing, how's about I buy you another drink and we head out and make each other warm?" Libby, as she liked to call herself, grinned to this, turning to him, catching the attention of a few people in the bar.
"Back off," she said in a polite manner. As polite as she possibly could. And as she turned around, she noticed someone out of the corner of her eye looking her way. She smirked to this, taking a drink from her beer as another comment was made towards her from the grunge looking man. She turned towards him as he spoke, not impressed.
"Come on now, it's only one drink," the man said as he placed his hand on her waist. Libby scowled, making a noise that everyone else understood as severe frustration. She noticed the guy out of the corner of her eyes again, smirking. He was watching with slight curiosity it seemed. She didn't mind this, considering as he stood up, her hand connected with the one on her waist and she spun around, taking the man's arm with her and putting against his back. He cried out in pain and she got him to the ground in one swift motion. He groaned as he connected with the floor and she smiled, turning back to her beer. The man got back to his feet, embarrassed and cradling his wrist, "You little bitch, you," he said as he left her with her beer now.
Libby was a tough girl. A southern girl at that. She enjoyed who she was with no problem at all, though her name held no relevance to who she truly was. A member of the Faceless Assassins; a group people feared in the city. No one knew who they were; hence the derived first name, Faceless. They were a 'gang' that went after corrupt members of the world it seemed. No one knows their true motive, but Libby quite a bit about them. Maybe it was the fact she was leading them through the eyes of Contact, her leader; boss. She didn't really know how to look at him in the order of things, really. Being one of the best in the 'gang' gave her the skills and mindset, along with physical strength, to defend herself against thugs and morons.
Libby's eyes turned towards the man who had been staring at her and she noticed him being called by some woman, "Sean!" she raised an eyebrow to this, watching with slight amusement as he got smacked clean across the face. She cringed a bit at the sound - it had to have hurt him a bit. She knew who Sean was though, now that she had heard the name. He was well known for his antics in Mayhem, "You jackass! You never fucking called me back!" Libby had to chuckle to this, watching as the girl stormed off in a fit of rage, frustrated by Sean's silence. But her attention went back to her beer. It appeared she wasn't the only one who knew how to make a scene. She didn't bother to watch the man leave, the man known as Sean. She'd looked at him through the scope of the sniper rifle hidden against the motorcycle back at her home; if it could be called that.
Libby lived in a garage attached to a house that was currently unoccupied. The garage gave her safety and cover - it was easy to move about if she became compromised in any sort of way. She sighed, looking to the trench coat she had draped over her arm that she'd nearly forgotten about. A smile graced her lips as she took hold of it, finishing off her beer and setting it on the bar. She stood up right, putting on the coat. No need to stay in the bar now, the grunge-looking man had ruined it for her. So, it was time to leave. A drink was fine, she could always get another drink later. Right?
Libby left money for her beer as she headed out the bar, walking around the corner. The wind had picked up and as the cold, brisk air began touching her face, she shivered a bit, smiling, "Cold." She shifted in her jacket, pulling it across her properly as she began to walk towards her safe house. It was a short ten minute walk. She was covered in a thin layer of white from the falling snow as she walked up the garage. It didn't bug her, she was used to absurd weather conditions anyway. So, she opened up the garage door and stepped inside, pulling it down to close it behind her. Her eyes wandered in the darkness until she pulled at a string above her head to turn on a single light bulb in the garage revealing a small loveseat and a motorcycle.
Libby smiled as she approached it, running her hands along the delicate frame of her Harley. It was a classic, a XR1200 series. She loved it. The roar of the engine, the way it felt to ride it. But she couldn't ride it in the conditions outside. The snow storm prevented that. Even with the snow, she was still bedridden in a way because of it. She let out a small groan as she slumped down on to the couch. It had been a long and boring day, all she wanted to do was kick back. But she knew she couldn't for long. When the weather cleared up a bit, she'd have to leave.
Wayfare; City Hall
Peace and quiet; something most people enjoyed, especially while working at city hall in a city like Wayfare. But things didn't always go that way if it was during the day, which was why Cameron Nash chose to work night shifts at city hall. Although, he wasn't technically working the night shifts. Cameron was a police officer in Wayfare, but he chose to avoid the police station by working under Roxy Armata's wing. The Chief of Wayfare's police department didn't exactly turn his crank; Zea Ciao. A real mess of a woman in Cam's eyes. He'd become real spiteful of her the day she stole his spot as chief of police. Cameron had been first pick for the position and then Zea had come out of nowhere and was placed as chief without a second thought. He grumbled in annoyance as he laid on a couch in the main lobby of city hall.
Cameron knew that if Roxy had found out he was at city hall again she'd probably kick him on back to the police station. She always tried to convince him to stay there and work things out instead of pestering her security staff, but it failed. Cameron refused to work near the woman who he believed to be corrupt all to hell. Which was why he spited her truthfully. He wanted to know how a woman as corrupt as her could become chief. Sure, they were both young and promising, but the fact of the matter was that she stole what was his; what Cameron had earned. What had she done to earn her title amongst the Wayfare city police department?
Going with the gut instinct that thinking so negatively on the matter was probably going to get Cam nowhere, he looked up at the ceiling as he laid on the couch. His bright eyes seemed dark with the well lit-up room. Which wasn't lit up for very long. He sighed when the power went out, hearing people yelp and what-not from it, "Is it that shocking to have a black out in the middle of a snow storm?" He smirked at the thought, getting up from his comfortable position.
It wasn't that Cam was an asshole or anything, he was just severely pessimistic after his string of bad luck. Then there was the robbery at Wayfare National Bank that destroyed him for two years. Okay, so maybe he was a bit of a pessimistic, but Cam didn't mind being that way. And as he walked down the hall towards the commotion, he thought about everything he had been through recently. He had helped Roxy Armata gain her seniority to become the mayor of Wayfare at such a young age; he most definitely did not regret helping her. Maybe it was she had enough power to influence the police force and didn't use it. Cam was supposed to have been the youngest declared chief of police, but it didn't go through thanks to Zea Ciao. He sighed, ignoring those thoughts, but ignoring those thoughts only brought him to thoughts of the robbery and the dead children.
Roxy had been one of the many hostages that day; along with two gentlemen and five children. Cameron had been one of the officers called on scene, and the final result of the situation had not been pleasant. They had just been glad someone walked away without being ridden in bullets. Yet, all he could remember from the incident was how heavy the children were as he carried their limp bodies from the building; their lifeless bodies. He found himself slowly falling in to a pit of failure. A pit of misrepresentation. He was supposed to stand for justice. Not destroying it; not ripping it from the last strings of the little bits of humanity left in Wayfare.
"Cameron! What are you still doing here?" Morris's voice rang through Cam's ears and he sighed, turning to face the man that had called out his name, "You know Roxy will have your head if she catches you at night again. Go home," Cam smirked to Morris. He was such a good man. He'd been working for City Hall for so long and still was as nice as he was. Cam felt like a complete grouch when the man was in the room. So, he decided to listen to Morris's advice.
"Yeah, yeah. I'm heading out now, happy?" Cameron said with a chuckle. Morris nodded, turning and heading away from Cam. But what did Cameron do? He most certainly didn't leave. Sure, he had plans on leaving. Yet, he couldn't. What did he have to go to? Morris had a wife. Roxy surely had something. Everyone seemed to have something as he headed down to Roxy's secret office. It wasn't much of a secret, really. It only received the name 'secret' because she used it as a private area for important calls or when she needed a little bit of time to herself.
Cameron sighed as he opened up the door with his own key to the room. Roxy had given it to him a while back so he had somewhere to go when things got to much for him. She remembered what had happened to him after the robbery. Cam had no one else to talk to, and after that day the two had made an odd connection. He had spoken to her about his thoughts, something he had not been able to do since his partner had left the force to get married to a man in another city. He smiled at the thought of his ex-partner, Alisa Petrova. She had meant the world to him, and as he sat down on the two seater couch in Roxy's 'secret' office, he thought about her and their time in the academy. They had known each other through high school and went to the academy together.
Alisa had been what Cam would have considered the love of his life, but it wasn't like he chose to do anything about it. She was with someone and it had become serious. He wasn't about to destroy that for her. And then she'd announced she was leaving the day he wanted to tell her. He had wanted to risk it all anyway and tell her. Right after he had, she said she was sorry. Cameron expected rejection, and rejection was what he got. It was like something had ripped him apart then and there.
Not much time would pass before Cameron earned himself a reputation by being put on a case involving an experimental lab just outside of Wayfare. It was still in jurisdiction, and he had been put on the case. He was more than pleased to do be on it and doing something new. The only thing was when they arrived, they had been shooed away since they had not presented a warrant to search the premises. With insufficient evidence against the place, Cameron took it upon himself to break in to the building and take pictures of the evidence. What he saw inside the place disturbed him and the mental images stuck with him for a very long time.
Human testing; seeing everything inside the building had changed him. He took the information to Zea anyway and received praise from some of his co-workers. He was placed as lead investigator instantly and a blue wall was created so no one revealed his break and enter to the lab. Cameron went in with his partner, Jack Cole, and they emerged as new men. A girl in tow. She seemed to be the only soul survivor of everyone inside the building - which was strange to Cam and Jack. Cam stuck by the girl's side, finding out her name was Jane Tayler not much later. He became emotionally attached to her unintentionally and helped her in to protective custody - of no one. And that was what Cam had specifically asked for. Not even two weeks following this, Cam was given notice of an explosion in an apartment building. When he came to the scene he was mortified. It was Jane's place, and no body was to be found.
Cameron sighed as he laid on the couch, closing his eyes. His thoughts were running rampant and he didn't know why. He raised a hand to his brunette hair and ran it through it, sighing once more heavily. He needed a break from the drama - and then his cell phone went off. He groaned, shifting around a bit and pulling it out of his pocket in an uncomfortable manner. When he had it out, he looked at the call display. Blocked, "Great." He knew that meant it was the station, most likely calling him in for over time. So, of course, he answered, "Nash here."
Cameron was right with his thoughts. They were calling him for over time, "Hello, Cam. We're looking for someone to fill a shift tonight. Are you available?" He wished he could have told them to fuck off and not go in at all, but as he took a gander at where he was and looked around the dark room, he realized he was doing nothing at all. That if he stayed in the dark room he would probably take the glock that was hooked to his waist and point it at his head, firing off a single bullet in to his head. But that would just be unethical, wouldn't it?
"Yeah, I can do that."