Los Angeles: a city that thrives in the night. The polluted air filled the lungs of its inhabitants. Bright neon lights would be the guide to many bars and clubs, inviting any that would come beyond their rusted doors and into a technicolor world of lasers and glowing lights. Not far from these crowded clubs and bars was another world. This world was like none other and those who were accepted into it were damn lucky. There was little you could do to enter such a ring of what some called "gods". But if you passed their tests, you were in… for life. The roar of engines could be heard for a good mile and a half as cars drove single file into a wide alleyway in the depths of L.A. A rainbow of imports parked against the buildings, the back ends to the wall. Men and women piled out from the cars and gathered in cliques around each others chariots. Here and there were cars with their hoods lifted proudly above them. If you were lucky, you got close enough to check it all out. It was like art, a car. So many body kits to choose from, some were bare, others wore vinyls with matching neon lights underneath. Hood scoops, rims, carbon-fiber, the works. Each car with its own personality. Men ogled women as they mingled, their tight skirts and bare midriffs teasing the opposite sex. The women stood in awe of the men and their cars. Men here didn't need to look particularly sexy (though it helped), all they needed was a fast car and some fat cash.
For months, She'd heard of the place. Some kids would talk about it while she worked the graveyard shift at the Moonlight Diner and Café. It wasn't much of a job, but it paid the bills. They'd come in with their sluts and sit down and brag about their wins or the people they'd been cheering for. She almost hated them. They were loud and always had to get up to talk about things and get in her way. It was enough that she had to have two jobs, but when kids like them were making it harder, she just couldn't take it. Luckily, Bonnie was car savvy enough to know what they were talking about when she brought them their food or refilled their drinks. Nitrous Oxide came up quite often and she'd shake her head. She knew very well what it was, and if those boys didn't watch it, they'd get themselves killed. Bonnie's day job was what gave her the knowledge of things like that. She worked for a man named Joey out on the east end of town. He sold parts and owned a shop, which was conveniently right next door. It was the best thing that ever happened to her. Joey was a good guy and he knew about her financial situation, so he slipped her some cash under-the-table. But she always worked her ass off for it. She liked the job because she could come in wearing jeans and a t-shirt and he didn't give a shit.
Bonnie had already built up $15,000 in her bank account and she was almost sure she had enough in her bank account to put a few new mods on her beast of a car. Joey would have killed anyone else, but because it was Bonnie, he'd go ahead and let Dominic Toretto install the parts. Toretto was the man of the streets. If street racers were gods, he was Zeus. She hadn't met Dominic yet, but word on the street was that he was cocky as all hell. But that aside, she'd also heard that he was the man to go to with your mods. And she wasn't letting anybody touch her baby, other than Dominic Toretto and his team. She planned on going over there after her shift that night to see what they could work out. She had all of the parts, courtesy of Joey Saldone. Now, all she needed was somebody to put the shit on.
He looked at the clock and sighed, "Damn." It was 7:00 and Leon, Letty, Jesse, Vince, and Mia had all gone for the day. He was stuck with paperwork and he had a bad feeling he'd be there for most of the night. Dominic stood and stretched his muscular form and turned toward the door. Another sigh escaped him as he walked into the break room. Dom reached into the fridge to grab himself a beer and just as he was about to close it, he heard the soft purr of an engine just outside. He peeked out at the front doors and watched for a moment to see if anyone would get out and sure enough, they did. He couldn't make her out that well, but he saw the figure of a woman step out of a blue '02 Subaru WRX She ran her fingers through her dark hair and walked to the front doors. The woman stopped at the doors and peered in. Dominic didn't want to be an asshole and let her wonder all night. He set down his beer and wiped his hands on his oil-stained wife-beater.
He unlocked one of the doors and stood in the doorway. Taking a moment, he looked her over. The girl wore a pair of loose-fitting jeans and a small wife-beater, her hot pink bra showing slightly through it. She wore a chained wallet, a decently large belt buckle, and some jewelry on her wrists. Her chestnut brown hair was straight and settled itself just above her breasts. He was surprised, she wore minimal amounts of make-up, unlike most of the women he'd been around. Even Mia wore her make-up heavier than this chick.
"I'm sorry," he said after scanning over her, "We're closed."
A long sigh escaped from her lips and she stomped the ground almost like a child, but with a bit more subtlety. "Shit," she said. "When do you open?"
He avoided the question and looked past her to the car she'd arrived in. A smile played across his lips, "That your car," he asked.
The girl looked back at the Blue Devil and turned back to him, a smile on her face. "Yup, she's mine," she spoke with pride.
He was curious, "What did you need, honey?"
Her face turned sour. She looked like she was ready to slap him. "The name's Bonnie Miller and I was hoping I could talk to you about working on my baby," she said a little peeved.
He smirked, "Well, Bonnie Miller, let's see what you're runnin'." He walked passed her and to the car, waiting for her to pop the hood. She turned on her heel and sauntered over to her car. Opening her door, she reached in and pulled a small lever. A latch unhooked and made a popping sound. Dominic quickly unhooked the hood and put it up.
"Let's see what you've got here," he said, his eyes wandering over the insides. He looked back at her, "Not bad." He tilted his head slightly, "Could use some improvement, but she's definitely got potential."
She stood by, her arms folded across her chest.
"What do you got? Probably around 230 horsepower right," he looked up at her from his position above the engine.
She nodded, "It's all standard." Toretto had dropped the hood when she added, "But I'd like to change that."
He smirked and stood across from her, against the wall of the shop. He too had crossed his arms over his chest, "And you want us to do the job?"
She slid her tongue over her teeth and walked closer to him. Sticking her hands in her back pockets, she shrugged. She stood a few feet from him, "I guess that's why I'm here." She was saucy, and he kind of liked it. Unlike most women, a lot of which were trying to get in his pants, she really was not afraid of him. He preferred his women feisty. She was starting to get angry and with all the demeaning names, all she really wanted to do was slug him right in the jaw, maybe make it hard for him to ever call her some stupid shit like that again.
"Look, if you aren't gunna do it, can you please let me know," she asked him in a condescending tone, "'cause I have to go to work in a few hours and I'd really like to have done something mildly productive."
He cocked an eyebrow at me and pushed himself from the wall. He stood close to my face. She could almost feel his body heat, "You got a real attitude problem, sweetheart."
That just about did it for Bonnie. But, she wasn't about to let him know how worked up he had gotten her. She leaned forward, inches from his face, "Call me sweetheart again, and I'll break your thumbs."
He looked down at her and his lips curled into a smile. "When are you bringin' her in," he asked.
She smiled back, faintly and raised a brow. "Tomorrow? Noonish," I proposed.
He grinned, "How 'bout we start working on it now?"
She knew what he was after. She had seen his previous girlfriend around town and she was pretty aggressive. "No, thanks. I'd really just rather bring her in tomorrow." Bonnie pulled a set of keys from her pocket and twirled them around her index finger. "Besides, I don't even know your name," she remarked, smirking at him and letting him know that she was on to him. With that, she turned and got into her WRX. Toretto stood just outside her window and she couldn't help but roll it down. He leaned over into window with a smirk
"It's Dominic Toretto." She saw his eyes wander over her form , then he added., "You can call me Dom." She revved her engine and put the blue devil in reverse, squealing out of the parking lot and onto the road. She smirked as she looked back in the mirror and saw him watching the car speed away.
When she got home, Bonnie threw her keys on the coffee table and walked over to her stereo, turning on a CD her older brother had made a year before he had run off with his slut girlfriend to New York. Blasting the stereo, she walked through the apartment, removing her tank top and slipping off her pants. She didn't care that her windows were bare. The fact was that she wasn't modest and if people were sick enough to peep into her windows, then fuck them. Moving into her bathroom, Bonnie turned the faucet on the bath and let it run for a few minutes. While it warmed up, she sauntered back into the kitchen and over to the fridge. She figured she deserved a cold beer after the long day she'd had. After popping the top on the side of the counter, she took a long swig. Closing my eyes, she let it coarse through her esophagus. She took the beer with Her to her bathroom and tested the water. Quickly, she set the beer on the side of the bathtub and removed what was left of her clothing. Bonnie sighed as she slipped into the hot bathwater. It rushed over her damaged, bronzed skin and finally settled over her like a warm blanket. It'd be a couple of hours before her shift at The Moonlight Diner and Café and she planned to soak I the tub for a good long while.
His eyes followed her and the car until they were out of sight. Rubbing his bald head, he turned and walked back inside the store. Dominic sighed and locked the front door again, turning out the lights in the store and moving toward a back door. Pushing it open, he was in the shop again, the smell of oils and new parts, sweat and stale air entering his nostrils. He closed the door behind him and walked into a large office where paperwork was laid strewn about the desk. The office was dirty and unorganized, just the way he liked it. There were countless times when Mia had offered to help him out and file things, and clean it thoroughly, but he refused. The way the place was now, he knew exactly where shit was and where it was supposed to go. Dom leaned forward on the desk, his palms covering papers: bills, notices, receipts. Again, he ran his hand over his smooth shaved head and exhaled loudly. He couldn't deal with this shit tonight, there was just too much on his mind.
A grin spread across his lips and he walked toward the other end of the office. A dirty computer sat humming on a small desk. The keyboard was smudged with grease and oil, as was the monitor. He sat down and turned on the monitor. It took a few seconds for the blue desktop to appear. Dominic double clicked on an icon in the top corner and a window popped up. He typed into a search box: Bonnie Miller-Los Angeles, California. A few links popped up and he double clicked on one. It was a fairly recent article. "Families and Fortunes turn to Ashes." He skimmed through the article. Apparently A rich family's home caught fire, foul play was suspected.
'The only member of the family left alive is young Bonnie Miller, a troubled teen who was said to have recently been admitted to a rehabilitation clinic for extensive drug use.' Dom shook his head and read on. 'The young girl was supposedly with a friend the night of the fire. Bonnie is one of the lead suspects in the murder of George and Diane Miller. She broke into tears at the sight of her home and refused to take blame for her parents' death. Ms. Miller was admitted to the State but for a limited amount of time. She will turn 18 in a matter of 2 months. The tragedy is being investigated by the Los Angeles Police Department.'
The rest was just findings and suspects, including Bonnie Miller. She was convicted of murder in the first degree and sentenced to life in prison. He found updates on her status. About 3 years after she was convicted, new evidence had been found in her defense. Bonnie was found not guilty and released from prison. Dominic lifted his eyes from the computer and scratched his stubbly chin. He stared at a blank space on the wall and thought for a moment. Would he even consider risking his business because of a psychotic drug addict? It might harm his reputation some, but considering his past affiliations he figured it really didn't matter all that much if he did work for her or not. A sigh escaped Dom's lips as he stood up and rubbed his shaved head. He stared down at the paperwork that sat piled at his desk and shook his head.
"Fuck this," he said and pulled on a leather jacket, walking briskly out of his office.