Sin City *On Hold*

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Honorary Mentions: Thanks for the support on this project! Y'all showed love before it even got released. Um, shout out to ethevisionary xosunny1 jadaawaydaa_ issa_niaaaa ilovebreeezy_ for helping me with this the entire time. Just know that when I die, all my royalties from this book will be split between them :)

The year was 1929. It started on a cold Tuesday and for some, this was just another year until Earth reached a new decade. However, soon they would realize this year brought on tragedies, challenges, and for some, opportunities.

Harlem, New York

October 30, 1929

Kenneth's narrow eyes fluttered as he woke up to the sound of his alarm clock blaring on his nightstand. The day was so gloomy that he felt as if he had woken up at 8:30 at night and not in the morning. He let out a husky sigh and sat up, his back cracking aggressively. For a twenty-seven year old, his body seemed to be thirty years early on the troubles of old age. He stood up slowly, his six-foot-one frame towering over his bed, and majority of the furtinure in his apartment room.

After taking care of his daily hygeine and choosing his wardrobe for the day. He was ready to impress. He wore a three-piece suit with wide lapels and high rise cuffed trousers in tweed suiting. His shoes were cap toe oxfords and a tie was around his neck, although it took him a few tries to tighten it, as it always did. He walked over to his wooden desk and picked up his notebook, opening to the sketch of the dress he was planning to pitch to his boss, Jimmy Wilkins. He had worked for Wilkins & Co for eleven years now as a graphic designer, although sometimes that seemed to just be a title to him. Sure he made decent money, but not all money is good money.

"Today's the day." Kenneth mumbled while staring down at the sketch, his raspy voice soft and full of hope. He put on a crooked toothed grin and closed the book with the small strip of ribbon holding his place. He grabbed his suitcase and with both items clutched in the opposing hands, he rushed out of the door. He refrained from eating breakfast or drinking a cup of coffee, so everything would be presentable. Including his breath.

"Good morning, Mrs. Marbury!" He yelled to his neighbor who was outside, reading the local paper. It took her a moment to register that he was speaking to her, but once she did, she gave him a half-hearted wave. They had a great relationship, well considering that racism was thick in the air all over America. But something seemed to be off about her that morning. "Weird..." He muttered before shaking his head and stepping down into his Auburn Boattail Speedster.

As he drove through the not-so-busy streets of Harlem, he noticed multiple people standing by holding up signs, seemingly protesting something. He didn't have to fully read the signs since he had to keep his eyes on the road. However, it was impossible to say that curiosity wasn't striking him.

Once he arrived to his workplace, that's when he could finally look at the signs people were holding up. One of them said "I know 3 trades, I speak 3 languages, fought for 3 years, have 3 children, and no work for 3 months, but I only want 1 job." Kenneth raised an eyebrow, wondering if the man was referring to the aftermath of the Great War. Although it had ended eleven years ago, some men were left homeless and jobless, and most didn't even have a choice to serve in the war or not.

Kenneth walked inside the building, not seeing many people in the store. Most of his co-workers were huddled in the corner, all with newspapers in their hands and worried expressions on their faces. He furrowed his brows and filled in his clock in sheet. "What's all the fuss about today? I don't mean to be a bluenose, but don't y'all think y'all should get to work before Mr. Wilkins comes in here and gives us all the bum's rush?"