A/N: Let me open by apologising for how long it's been. I've been reading a lot of TMI and playing a lot of Dangan Ronpa and I kind of lost track of, well, everything.
Hey ho, let's go, hey ho, I don't own GONE.
Over the past few weeks Drake had seen less and less of his workers. Edilio would shoot right off to the bar after he finished up his work. If he didn't know better, he'd think the kid was an alcoholic. He wondered if that was better than being... in Edilio's situation. He shuddered. His entire working staff consisted of himself, an Indian, a woman and a queer Mexican.
Drake needed this problem dealt with, and fast.
aeiouaeiouaeiou
At some point, even he wasn't sure of when, it had become impossible for Edilio to stay away from Roger and his bar. He needed to see him. He couldn't go a day without seeing him.
"So Mr. Escobar... You got yourself a lady friend?" Edilio chuckled.
"No, uh, not really my thing." Roger smiled down at him.
"Yeah, me neither."
"Well, ain't that somethin'."
"Sure is."
aeiouaeiouaeiou
As soon as Lana walked into Drake's office, she wished she hadn't. He was standing over his desk, cleaning a gun.
"Drake? What are you doin' with that thing?" He looked up at her.
"Mind your own damn business, Lana." Her eyes narrowed.
"Don't you go gettin' ideas, Merwin. If you're plannin' anything against that man, I swear, you'll come to regret it."
"If you know what's good for you, you'll stay the hell outta this."
aeiouaeiouaeiou
"Hello, Virtue. The sherrif around?"
"Right this way." Lana was led down a long hallway, and eventually to a door. When she opened it, there was a dim light hanging overhead. There was a man sitting at a desk, holding a stack of papers and idly nursing a cigarette.
"Sherrif?" The man tipped his hat up.
"Please, ma'am." He took a drag of the cigarette hanging from his mouth. "Call me Caine."