Natalie had moved into Sandy Shores roughly 5 years ago and she never had plans on leaving. In her mind she had everything she needed, a decent home that wasn't crumbling as much as the trailers around her, a job at the Yellow Jack Inn which paid well enough, and there was always something going on, whether it was another meth bust, or a Lost groupie having a kid on the side of Zancudo Avenue.

It wasn't a paradise for her by any means, but she figured it was good enough for her to make a living until there was something better that came along. Currently, her job as a bar tender and by default a conflict resolution consular paid her just enough to live decently, bills would be paid, clothing would be bought, and every so often she could afford to treat herself to a night out. But when her car -that she suspected was built to be a lemon- decided that it had enough, the wages she was paid weren't going to cut it if she ever hoped to buy a car that would last longer than her new lawn ornament did.

But as for now, she had to deal with walking, which wasn't the best idea with the horrible heat in the day, and the danger of gang violence at night, sometimes spending the night at her work when she feared that someone might follow her. She was rarely paranoid, but unfortunately, most Sandy Shores came there often and she was well experienced in their worst sides, enough so that a night sleeping on a beer stained couch was better than walking home.

Her boss Janet often took pity on her, treating her as if she was her child, despite Janet once telling her she never wished for a child. Janet often gave her a meal in the frequent double shifts Natalie pulled and left a throw blanket out at night just in case Natalie decided to stay. Tonight was a night Nat figured her smelling like mold and Bloody Mary's in the morning would be better than her possibly ending up in a shallow grave, it was growing towards last call and the bar was still buzzing from drunken rednecks, Janet and Natalie were in tune, helping wherever they could with each other, often leaving them with time to mingle with each other and the bar goers.

Natalie could hear a low, unamused grunt come out of Janet's mouth over the low buzz of conversation around them, she glanced over to where she was looking, towards the entrance where an impressively tall, older man came in. She recognized him around Sandy Shores but never paid him much mind, he was mostly familiar by the sign near the bar that specifically said he wasn't allowed in, now the detail were hazy as to why he wasn't allowed, since she hadn't been working that night, and when Nat saw him slip a 50 across the bar top to herr boss, it must not have been too serious since she tucked it into her bra and gave him a small nod in acceptance.

She saw the man turn to herself, grinning in a way that could make children cower and she were sure a lot of the trashier girls dropped their panties over. He sat himself on a stool unceremoniously, Janet having already poured him a drink and slid it over to him. She knew he frequented often before he was banned, but she mostly paid him no mind, he was one of the few that managed to hold his booze so there was no need to interfere. Before long she realised she were staring at him, thankfully he wasn't paying much mind to her, instead more focused on getting to the bottom of that glass.

Janet called out for last call, much to her dismay as everyone rushed her to get to their proper amount of inebriated before making their trek home. She smacked away a few that tried to reach for a bottle behind the counter, and a harder smack for one that grabbed for her chest, Janet coming to her defense, "Richard!" She shouted, as if chastising a child about to get their hands in something they shouldn't, she saw the man, pout, red faced from alcohol, before grabbing his glass and turning towards the den.

The place was beginning to clear out and Janet left her to close up for the night, explaining that her and her mail order husband were having their weekly conjugal that night. She told everyone to get the fuck out, only the obedient did, leaving roughly 5 men in the bar, she decided to let them be for the time being, knowing when she threatened to call the cops they would split.

As she were cleaning up spills from around the bar, a gruff voice spoke to her, "You from around here?" Natalie glanced up, noticing it was the formerly banned man, Trevor she thought it was, and upon a glance back at the 'banned' sign, it was either Trevor, Dex, or Andrew.

She nodded, tucking a few bottles away, "I've been here for a few years, I'm not far from Ammu-Nation." She said nonchalantly, waiting for him to ask when he could come over, as so many men before did.

He only nodded in return for a long moment, before setting his drink down, "You do any other work?"

Natalie shook her head, wincing when a customer threw up what looked like everything from his stomach, luckily making it to the trash bin just in time, "No, just here.. it's a good place, Jan always pays me on time. You do any work?" She asked him, purely to be polite.

"I do imports and trading." He said vaguely, before quickly changing the subject by outstretching his hand, "Name's Trevor."

She took his hand, giving a firm shake, much to the satisfaction of Trevor, "Natalie." She said with what was not entirely work enforced enthusiasm, even noticing her hand lingered a little longer on his calloused hand than what would be considered professional. She deemed it to be flirting, as crappy as it was, but blaming it on her recent dry spell in regards to sex.

Trevor didn't seem to notice her entirely too subtle attempt at flirting, but he did seem interested, doing that entire look over that many men in her past did, looking from her brunette, two toned hair and steely eyes down to her breasts, which weren't quite huge, but the perkiest the Yellow Jacket Inn had seen since hardcore drugs took over Sandy Shores. She didn't reprimand him for very obviously staring but turning away to resume her work.

Trevor smirked, slowly sliding himself off his bench and smacking a tip down onto the counter top, "Something happen to your car?"

She glanced back at him, a thick eyebrow raised, "Yeah.. it broke down, how do you know about my car?"

He shrugged nonchalantly, "Don't see it out there, you need a ride?" By the tone of his voice, his offer wasn't entirely innocent. She detected it meant something more than heavy petting was in store, and as much as the idea of sharing a bed that night was appealing to her, she didn't entirely know what he was about, having a dangerous, and rather attractive glint in his eye, but dangerous enough to be wary.

Nat shook her head, "No, I'm good.. thanks though." She said easily, not mentioning that she planned on sleeping here that night.

He nodded, not seeming bothered about his denied request, her suspecting he could easily call a girl to warm his bed. He gave her a lazy salute before sauntering out of the bar, her unable to help but check out the finely worked muscles in his arms as he left.

She cleared out the rest of the patrons after that, cleaning up after them, a job she was used to before, clicking off the radio that had Johnny Cash crooning out of it, before settling herself on the bar's couch.
Natalie let her thoughts take over, wondering how she was going to be able to afford a new car and ensure some of her safety, wondering if it was worth it to secure a job at the local convenience stop, despite its frequent break ins.

She sighed to herself, tucking her anxieties away for another day. Finally, letting her eyes close, trying to ignore the smell wafting through the couch as she drifted off to sleep.