Mean Street (Reno, closed)

[hoffman]

Mean Street

It was a relatively peaceful day in Radiant Garden, a certain adolescent surmised. Wading her way through the crowds of citizens, the windbreaker-clothed female ran a black-gloved hand through her long, emerald-colored hair, uttering a groan. But at what?

Whistles. Stares. Attention.

"Whoo! Hel - lo, hot stuff!"

"... don't make a scene, Leiz... don't make a scene." Leiz Ryada didn't want whistles or stares. In fact, he didn't want any kind of attention that would be suited for women of a certain age - not a man. Yes, little had any of his surveyors known, he was as a matter of fact one of their kind... not the soft-faced, cute-eyed tomboy they wanted to see. The appearance was faux, nothing but a lie. An unintentional lie, made by fate itself. Were it up to Leiz, this tireless, endless existence of being forced to prove his masculinity would be rectified. He'd be six feet tall. He'd have a wider jaw and structured cheek bones. Maybe even a larger set of shoulders. Oh, how he wished he could look less like this and more like that.

Pining for the solace of the bottle, Leiz decided that he would head for Radiant Garden's Frosted Flame, a tavern where he could just drink his worries away... or at least put these patronizing, homoerotic reactions from obsessive males to rest. He wanted to think less of his ultimate goal and think more of himself for once. Leiz's vacation called for some of that selfish indulgence. His inner heart craved it as well.

Leiz then turned a corner, totally unaware of who he was about to run into.