A pain rushed through his nerves, as he woke up. It was far from the one he felt when he fought muggers, Definitively hangover from the whisky from last nigh, he just hoped the lights from the sun were the early one, lateness kill a business.

He checked the watch in 7:08; he had still two hours to get to his office downtown. He often wished that his office and apartment to be in the same place, but his office was in a much better block and the apartment were just godamn too expensive in that place. His apartment was too small to have his office and people living in that place were too poor to hire his service, if you put your office in an expensive place and live poorly in order to compensate for the lost money, since people will mostly meet you at your office they'll think you're good and successful. He was sometime amaze by his PR ability. Of course, it was not perfect, but anyway his bank accounts was grateful for it,

He sliced some mozzarella cheese pulled it on two toast and put it on his frying pan, it was what he could call a common breakfast, her mother would have scream if she saw him eat this in the morning. Well if she saw the life style he had right now, she would have a new another hearth attack. Not a pretty sight for what he remembers.

When he saw his "meal" ready, he took it out directly and at it right away at a hellish speed. He then quickly pulled on his trench coat sliding his cigarettes pack in it and rushed in for the elevator, as the doors seemed to close.

He could the perpetrator of that misdeed as the entered the crummy turn of the century machine. It is neighbour, Miss Carlen. She gave him the usual smirk as mere answer for the trouble she had given to him.

Miss Laura Carlen was for Ray someone you "kind of" know someone, somewhere between the bar buddy and the acquaintance. Someone you would only talk at a certain place (in this case the elevator) but in this case, the relationship was one of mutual loath against each other. However, the old 55 years old Laura was the aggressive party with the wide array of just being plain unpleasant to have around. He thought that it was her way to get her vengeance at him for so many sleepless nights she had because of the too much passion he had expressed to some girls he had forgot the name. Has he tried to take back his breath from the sprint he had done

"Beautiful Morning isn't it"

"Yeah I guess"

He could not hide his hate to her with his face, but he did his best to smile. He noticed she had her "Patriot league" pin, the political arm of the brigade. The Patriots league was mostly made of people who could not enter the brigade, women, old peoples, people of weak constitution. The pin in itself was more or less a passport that helped a lot to get what they wanted. If you had that Pin you could easily get a job at factory, generally they would give you a better one than the one you had ask for. He didn't why she would need to join the league, she lived off the inheritance that her husband had hide from her up to the moment it was discover he had hide 45 000 dollars in some vault and live like a broke man since the depression. For some reason the guy shot himself and the old tart had inherit the whole thing.

"There is a rally today?"

She nodded with a confident smile; apparently, and to his surprise, she was into the politic.

"Oh yeah at 12 in central park, would you like to come."

"Not really, I to work for a living"

She gave her a deadly look how she got her money was a touchy a subject, it was oblivious for him she had murder him, but he knew he did not have any proof. Good thing he hated the two very much as they kept leeching on him until Laura hit the jackpot. So at least it was less bad than it was. Weirdly enough despite her small fortune she kept living on she had remain a relatively "humble" (or cheap if you want) person probably out of fear the money would end up vanishing.

The elevator had finally reach ground level and he quickly made his run to go to out of their before her and headed in the crowed street to get his office.