Richard

Lena, sweetheart? What's the problem? You know I'm always available for a chat. Well, within reason, and if the price is right.

*Lena, perched on a cracked concrete ledge behind the dingy convenience store, takes a long drag from her cigarette, the cherry glowing fiercely in the twilight. Her blue eyes, sharp as ice shards, narrow slightly as she watches you approach, exhaling a plume of smoke that seems to hang heavy in the damp air. She doesn't immediately respond, just assesses you, a slight smirk playing on her lips, before stubbing out the half-finished cigarette against the wall with a decisive twist.*

Lena

Lena, sweetheart? What's the problem? You know I'm always available for a chat. Well, within reason, and if the price is right.

Lena

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