The cool brush of air on his stubbled cheek held a creeping warmth that was unwelcome. David flicked up the collar of his woollen coat, irritated, squinting ice blue eyes up at the sky. It would be daybreak soon, if the gradually lightening dark was anything to go by. The pink of dawn was absorbed by low, misty clouds that would burn away by sunrise but, for now, clung like silk to the ocean. The Boardwalk was as silent as the grave; the usually lumbering Ferris wheel was frozen and the clattering roller-coaster was empty. The brightly painted sideshows were populated for the moment only by drunks, junkies and troubled runaways in various stages of stupor who huddled in and out of the shadows made darker by the lack of illumination. From late afternoon, until just after midnight, the Boardwalk and surrounding beach paths were decked out with twinkling fairy lights. Jewel-bright bulbs and pinpricks of white light that cast wild shadows and beautiful splotches of colour over the throng that swept through, enticing them in to the wild, night-long party. But for now it was dark. This was the best time to visit the pier, in David's opinion. Stripped of the glitz and glamour of the tourist trap, the Boardwalk lay sleepily beneath the blanket of pre-dawn like a bare face. Without the garish lights, the true, crumbling nature could be seen, like a decrepit performer cleansed of her make-up.

'Hey man, we gotta go!' The shout rang out metallically, reverberating across the well-trodden boards and cutting clear above the gentle lap of the waves. David turned from the figure he'd paused in front of, a tangle of thin limbs sheltered in the awning of a comic book store that had been plastered on the outside with 'missing' posters, some yellowed and curled with age papered over with newer, whiter pleas.

'We gotta go now, man, or we'll never make it back.' Marco's tone was slightly panicked and David chuckled lowly, seeing the younger boy's dirty-blonde curls bounce as Marco twitched nervously and twisted his fist to rev his engine to life. Without a second glance at the hunched, ambiguous figure at his feet, David strode across the boards to where his own bike waited.

'We'll make it,' he grinned with confidence as he straddled his motorcycle with an unhurried, easy grace. The engine roared as he kick-started it with a heavy black boot, louder and more insistent than Marco's.

'By the skin of our teeth. I dunno what we have to keep coming back here for, man.' Marco protested above the rumble of their bikes. Brushing off the comment, David flashed Marco a grin.

'Let's go grab a bite to eat.' His laugh was good natured, snatched from his lips and carried to Marco's ears by the speed as he tore away. The salty-sea air of Santa Carla whipped at his face as David leant forward to urge his bike on faster, leading Marco along the deserted coastal path, up into the dark hills that bordered the city.

'Hey, girl, quit it!' Tozier protested, holding his heavily tattooed hands up to shield his bald head from the moisture inflicted on him as Star shook her cocoa-brown curls in his direction, causing dew-droplets to scatter over the big man as he perched on the stool at the counter. 'You sleep outside again, Star?' Tozier asked with a note of unease as he took in her crumpled clothes and the light purple shadows under her eyes.

'I like it outside,' Star shrugged as she leant across the countertop and grabbed a slice of toast from his plate and skittered quickly out of his reach to curl up on the burgundy leather Chesterfield with a grin. She devoured the first slice and deftly caught the second that Tozier tossed to her, brushing the crumbs from her lap. As much as Tozier had heard that phrase before, he knew different.

He knew that Star would creep into back alleys, curl up in doorways, or just wander the Boardwalk until dawn when her father had been drinking. Which was often. Taking a risk on the streets of Santa Carla, Murder Capital of the World, was a lot safer than taking a beating from her daddy. It had been weeks since her fractured cheek had healed after the last time she'd been too slow to slip out of their condo, yet the yellowing shadow of the thrashing still stained her eye socket even now.

'Why you stay is beyond me, girl.' Tozier muttered, shaking his head as he eased his bulk off the stool and crossed the room with a steaming cup that he pressed into her hand. 'Suppose ya'll want my coffee too? Take it. Take everything I own, but remember I'll be taking five bucks off your paycheck.' He winked, thick muscles flexing as he stretched out on the couch beside her and laced his hands behind his bald, tattooed head. Tozier was old enough to be her father, and had been more of a daddy to her for the last two years than her real father ever had been, ever since he'd found her trying to pick the pockets of the holiday-makers that often stumbled into his store, tanked up on alcohol and looking to get tattooed up for shits and giggles.

'Plenty of instruments out back for you to get going with, it was crammed in here last night. Why you so late?'

'Another body,' Star said, draining the china cup and setting it down on the glass topped table in front of her, carefully avoiding the tattered books that held all the designs Tozier had drawn himself, as well as a few that she had snuck in. 'Cops all over the Boardwalk. Should be cleared up by noon though.'

Sins and Needles, Timmy Tozier's tattoo place, had been on the Boardwalk for the past 15 years or so, which meant he was used to the odd body being found now and then. Washed up on the glorious sandy shore, or discovered half-buried in a dumpster, the process always seemed the same… A team of cops would flood the place for a couple of hours or so, drawing a crowd of interested holidaymakers and half-interested druggies, whose only concerns were whether or not the deceased happened to be their dealer. The gathering dispersed as soon as the scene was mostly mopped up, and hour or more after discovery. Some would drift into Sins and Needles, mooch around the designs and sometimes enquire about prices. Most of their trade however would trickle in after five-ish, when the Boardwalk lights would come on and the party atmosphere would really take off.

As well as doodling some designs and sterilising the equipment, Tozier had taught Star how to pierce. Mostly ears, but she did do the occasional bellybutton or nose. Her ultimate goal was to become as deft with a tattoo needle as Tozier was, and he would often let her sit in on appointments, carefully explaining the process in his low, patient tone that was at odds with his hard, inked exterior. Black intricate designs covered almost every inch of his smooth, ageless skin, even creeping up his neck like ivy to envelope his bald head, leaving his face free to give his impressive sandy coloured moustache the space it deserved.

'I got a big job booked in for twelve thirty if you're sticking around. Finishing the shading on a sleeve.' Tozier swept the coffee cup off the table and shoved it into Star's hands, motioning her to the kitchen. 'Better get to sorting the stuff out back then, if you want to watch. Skip to it,' he said, amused by the sparkle in her dark brown eyes at the mention of shading. He knew she'd been desperate to see him finish the tattoo she had mostly designed.

Despite her harsh home life, there was a natural twinkle to the girl, ever present in her large, dark eyes and shining through her ever-present optimism. The damp ocean air had a tendency to catch in her thick, full curls, when she walked the city at night, trapped like tiny diamonds in a net which had led Tozier to call her Star. He knew her real name was Ellora, she had told him so herself when he'd legged it after her to claim back the wallet she'd lifted from one of his clients that first and fateful time. But it was a name attached to life at home, a place she tried so hard to distance herself from, and who was he to stand in her way? So she had become Star. The tattooist's apprentice.

'I worry about you, Star,' Tozier said as they were clearing down for the night, much later.

'You do?' she asked, pushing her long, heavy hair from her face as she straightened up. She was a thin, slight girl, glittering with thin, cheap bracelets and silver-plated rings, but the delicate beauty in her eyes was plain. 'Why?' The tilt of her mouth suggested she was amused at his comment.

'I just worry that one day, you'll become one of them,' Tozier crossed his thick, beefy arms across his broad chest, pecs flexing beneath his black tank-top as he gestured with his chin at the small pile of 'missing' fliers gathered on the counter top. A mother, world-weary and haggard with grief, had pressed them into Star's hand earlier, desperately seeking the young, fair-haired girl depicted in the black and white photo and begging Star to keep an eye out for her daughter who hadn't come home in over a week.

Star laughed, the laughter travelling from her lips to her eyes as she tossed her head back and shook her glorious hair.

'Oh Tozier, I can look after myself. I've survived seventeen years already. Santa Carla is a snake coiled in my palm. And I know just how to make it eat.' She grinned as Tozier tossed her a ten dollar bill.

'Speaking of which,' he said. 'Get yourself something to eat. I didn't realise it was so late, and I kept you sterilising that equipment past lunch time. Think the taco place is still open, if you hurry.' The big man dropped the girl a wink as he gently took the sani-spray and towel from her as she cleaned down the Chesterfield. 'And do me a favour. If it's another night like last night, come back here. I've got two designs to do by Monday so should be here late.'

Star nodded, her dark eyes smiling, but they both knew she'd walk the Boardwalk as usual, should daddy be halfway through his medicinal bottle of bourbon. Of course he would, when wasn't he? The thrum of the live music, pounding in her veins like her very own heartbeat, was enough to chase out any thoughts of self-pity. Then the buzz of happy holidayers was enough to keep her going until the sparkle of lights was turned off. Carrying her through til morning would be the whisper of the waves crashing gently on the shore below the rough planked wood, worn smooth by many feet.

'Mmm, taco!' Star grinned, feeling her empty belly rumble for the first time that day. Could she really not have eaten since those slices of pilfered toast? She shifted the hair out of her face and wriggled her slip hips, torn between the warmth of the tattoo studio and the wildness of the night outside.

'Just go!' Tozier whipped the girl playfully with the cleaning cloth as she shoved the bill into the band of her skirt. 'Make sure you spend that money of food.'

Star laughed, reading the frown on Tozier's smooth, wrinkled brow. He knew her taste for tawdry jewellery too well. The cheap glimmer gave her great pleasure, but he knew the girl needed more than a good meal or too. Her fine cheekbones were prominent beneath the sunkissed skin of her face, bony hips barely holding up the thick band of her long, glittering gypsy skirt. She twirled, a cloud of white and silver, gilded by her long, dark curls as she eased herself half out of the door.

'Oh, and Star?'

'Mmm?' she called, poking her head curiously back around the glass.

'Don't get yourself put on the back of a milk-carton. Be careful out there.'