' "You look..." "Beautiful, I know. Can we move on?" '
Amidst the shadows of the little town of Charming, this chaotic and dangerous scene steps in Giselle Telford, a woman dead set on escaping the shadows of her past to embrace an uncertain future...
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The work hustle is real. While she was on the road, Giselle stopped to grab a bite in this tiny café, there were some job postings. One of them was in Charming, doubling up as a barista and a tattoo artist.
Giselle worked a few times in a bar as a standard job, and as for tattooing, she was pretty damn good at drawing. Did a couple of pieces back in Vegas for her buddies, no sweat. So, doing that job? Piece of cake.
Now, she's just posted up at the counter, waiting to chat with the boss.
The bar's nothing fancy, but the folks here seem like they're straight outta the rehab or maybe just outta prison. But hey, it's Charming, so Giselle's not exactly shocked to see this crowd. She's seen worse, for sure.
"Boss wants to talk to you," says this middle-aged men, motioning her towards the back. Obviously, before diving in all the way, she keeps glancing around, trying not to attract any attention, just checking out the scene. Like, sizing up the situation. It's a habit she picked up since coming back from the war. Scanning the exits, counting heads, just in case things get bad.
Sure, her post-war jobs demanded that kind of vigilance anyway, but now, she's here for a bit of peace... though Charming ain't exactly selling that vibe.
"Take a seat," says the guy behind the desk, a bit younger than the one before. First impression? Dude might jump at his own shadow.
But Giselle's learned the hard way not to judge a book by its cover.
"Alright, so why do you want this job?" the guy asks "I've just moved here and I need a job," the man nods, pondering it. "Just so you know, the clients aren't easy to handle. Something usually goes down at least once every night."
Giselle nods in understanding. "I won't find another job offer elsewhere, and I need the cash to buy myself a house, so it's whatever. I can handle myself."
The man eyes her up. "The tattoo artist before you bolted. Why should I hire a woman if a guy couldn't take it?"
Giselle smirks. "You hire me, and I'll show you." Deep down, she craves peace, wants to steer clear of violence. That's why she plans to keep her head down, do her job without stirring trouble or throwing punches.
He returns the smirk. "Alright, we'll see, kiddo. Be here bright and early at 7 a.m. tomorrow, and maybe bring along a couple of sketches. Wanna see what you got."
Giselle gives him a grateful nod and exits the bar. But before she leaves, she turns back to her new boss. "Hey, you happen to know where the Sons' club is?" The mention of the Sons makes the guy in front of her go pale, confirming that the Sons aren't just your average biker gang.
****
It's evening now, dark outside, and Giselle just parked outside the club. She's gotta admit, anxiety was creeping up on her during the short walk from the parking lot to the entrance. This time, it's not like at the auto shop, but here, all the members will be there. Her father's family. A family she doesn't know if she wants to be a part of or not.
