[center][img]https://s3.amazonaws.com/images.charitybuzz.com/images/350708/original.jpeg?1528815950[/img] [img]https://fontmeme.com/permalink/190326/1f2ab2b31e45e3977a78b179b0faaca6.png[/img] [hr][hr] [i]Mom: Wherever you are hijo, please be safe. Call me when you can? Te amo[/i] Of course his mother was worried; Sami hadn’t been home in nearly three weeks. He’d been crashing in Val’s basement on a rather pleasant leather sofa her family had neglected to get rid of. He had spent last couple of days asking himself how he had found himself in such a situation and if he was truly honest with himself it didn’t take much to figure out; he could not stand his father. It had started out like any other day really. Sami was on his way home from school, driving his beloved mustang. The plan for the day was simple, drop his stuff off, forcibly pick up Nate and then meet the crew at the beach for a little surfing. Then a damn dog ran out into the road. Of course he swerved to avoid it and his car was totalled by an oncoming truck. Sami was fine, he was made of tougher stuff but that didn’t really matter. Havana Alejandro was pissed at his only baby boy for destroying such an extravagant gift. The tension between father and son had been building for years really. Hector had got himself into soon deep trouble back in Cuba so he ended up sending his family to the States for their own protection. Six years Sami went without a father and even when Hector did turn up, he never really had time for his boy. They really struggled together to find any even ground that they could share and bless his mother, she did everything she could to help but it just wasn’t enough to get them onto the same page. The resulting blowout was the worst they’d ever had and it ended with Sami head butting his dad square in the temple. He then quickly packed a bag and fled his home. Due to this, Sami graduated in absentia but hey at least he graduated! It’s been a week since then and he and Val have been toying with the idea of just hitting that open road and leaving the plastic life of LA behind them. It was within that thought that Latino heat found another; they needed a ride. Hence his current predicament, a head under the hood of a stolen RV with a wrench in one hand and his phone in the other playing Ace’s Asylum. This thing was a piece of shit but it had character or at least he thought it did, it did come from his father's lot after all. [b][color=olive]"Love was a dream to have Was a king-size bed Was an escape plan Was an open hand Now it's a dog from hell It's a dream you sell It's an epitaph It's photograph...."[/color][/b] Singing along to whatever track Gwen was playing was a good way to get himself out of his own head. The food truck by the beach, it was the misfits meeting place, it had been for a many years and this actually might be the last time they ever met there. Life sucked; that needed to change and maybe stealing the crew from their lives and driving them into the great yonder could do that. [color=olive]”Maldito pedazo de mierda”[/color][/center]