I twirled the unlit cigarette around in my fingers absently, waiting for something interesting to happen. I guess interesting was the wrong word, really. The streets were interesting but... they were also very dangerous. I feel like dangerous wasn't a strong enough to describe this hellish place I unwillingly called my home. Whatever, you get my drift. This place was less than great but, hey, what other choice did I have? Go back to my family? As if. Those low life scum weren't my family, they were strangers and abusive assholes that I was forced to spend fourteen years of my life with. You're probably curious about why I chose this place, am I right? Of course I am, I'm always right.

I guess you could say I got fed up with my family when my dad knocked me unconscious for the millionth time... I dunno, something finally snapped then. That night I packed all my shit and was out of the house. I wandered until I found this place, the Streets of Shame. The name didn't intimidate me. I figured as long as I was away from my parents anything was good. I settled in pretty quickly here. At first, I was living in alley ways and on street corners before I actually got to know people. Y'see, Armatage Shanks was the king here when I arrived. He sorta took me under his wing, which was rare. I was the only person he's ever done that with. Shanks and I are close now, closer than close, he's my older brother in a sense. We'd die for eachother and it's come close to that many times. He's my best friend and I love him to death.

Through knowing A I worked my way up. I worked my way to the top of the drug trade and I became Queen of the Streets of Shame. Saint Whatsername is how I'm known here. Everyone respects me, everyone listens to me, everyone fears me. I'm not some crazy bitch though who goes shooting up random people cause I'm having a bad day, no that was A, not me. A and I currently live in one of the nicer houses here, no broken windows, still has locks on the doors, no holes in the walls or the roof, it's a pretty nice place.

I pulled myself out of my trip down memory lane when my sudden urge for a cigarette overpowered me. "Stupid addictions," I sighed, lighting up my Newport and smiling at the menthol as it coated my throat, disguising the taste of the smoke as it entered and exited my lungs. I looked down at the pack of Newports I had in my hand and counted the remaining cigarettes, five. I groaned I had gotten this pack this morning. I stuffed it in my back pocket and let my feet take the familiar route to the 7-Eleven. I had walked this route so many times I didn't need to look. When you've been living in the Streets for as long as I have, you get to know your way around blindfolded and backwards.

I smiled when the automatic doors opened and I stepped through. I'd never told anyone this because it's embarrassing but, when I walk through those doors, it makes me feel like a Jedi. Like I can move shit with my mind. I stifled a laugh as I walked up to the counter, earning an odd look from the cashier. I looked crazy to everyone, but then again, everyone except me an A were crazy so it didn't really make a difference, did it?

"Newports," I said to the boy. He reached up without looking at me and handed me my pack, his eyes glued to his copy of Playboy. I rolled my eyes and walked out of the gas station. That's how it was here, you didn't pay for anything. You either stole it or it was given too you. A and I get things handed to us on a silver platter, and everyone else steals. I packed down my new pack of cigarettes before stuffing them in my other pocket. I would have to remember not to sit down until I took them out... if not that would lead to a very pissed off Whatsername.

"W!" I whipped around at the sound of my name, my hand instinctively on my gun before I had time to register the voice as A's. "Oh yes I'm here to blow your brains out," he rolled his eyes walking towards me.

"I'm sorry, A! It's a reflex!" I told him, walking to meet him half way. He laughed and hugged me when we reached eachother.

"I know, don't worry. I just like giving you a hard time," he grinned.

"Thanks...," I glared. I had to look up at him, he was more than a foot taller than my five foot three inches. "Y'know, it's annoying how everyone is taller than me," I sighed. "I'm seventeen and I'm 5'3''," I grumbled.

"Don't worry, good things come in small packages!" He grinned, patting me on the head. I rolled my eyes and shook my head.

"Asshole," I murmured, smiling. He was about to protest when we heard shouting. Both of our hands snapped to our guns and we ran in the direction of the noise. No one started shit on the Streets and expected to get away with it. This had to be someone new. My job was getting annoying, I was getting sick of having to babysit these idiots, but someone had to do it and I sure as hell was the only one who would.

When we reached the sound of the noise, it confirmed my theory that we didn't know who they were. One was a boy, he was tall with black spikey hair that stuck out in all directions, he was about 5'6" and had the brightest blue eyes I had ever seen, in all honestly this guy nearly knocked me off my feet. I shook my head, clearing my thoughts as I noticed the someone he was shouting at. She was about an inch taller than him and she had curly dirty blonde hair and an odd shade of purple eyes that I'd never seen before.

"Who are you?" I asked, not caring if it came out rude or not. I really didn't want to waste my time on these low lives, I had more important things to do... like finding weed.

"What the fuck is it to you?" The guy snarled. So it was going to be like this, then. I sighed and pointed my gun at him, cocking it with a uninterested look on my face. I chuckled when he pointed his gun at me as well.

"Lovely, we're going to get along great," I rolled my eyes. "I'll ask you again, who are you and why are you here?"

"And again, what the fuck is it to you?" He snapped. Another asshole... he did have a nice voice though. Focus, W...

"Considering I run this place? It means something," I sighed.

"You're Whatsername?" He asked, his crystal blue eyes going wide slightly. He'd heard of me? That could go either way... he could put his gun away or he could shoot me. I wasn't hoping for the latter, I didn't feel like getting shot today. As expected, he put down his gun, his face lighting up.

"He wants to combine drug trades," the girl with him said, rolling her eyes. They had to be related, they shared too many similarities in their face to be strangers.

"Who are you and why would I want that?" I asked, my eyebrows rising.

"Saint Jimmy, I own the South and North Sides. The West Side is impossible for anyone except for them but with you, I feel like we can run those bastards out of town and claim what's ours," he said, a smirk forming on his lips.

"You've got a deal," I said, shaking his hand, a smirk identical to his on my face.

Little did I know I would be seeing a lot of that smirk from that day forward. Little did I know that I would be feeling his touch more than I saw his trademark smirk. Little did I know that this insignificant teenager would soon become my life.