It's the street of Any Town, USA. Every day the same scene plays out in countless cities and megacities all across the Untied States. People in a rush to get to work. None are content with haveing others obstructing their path to the office.

There's little solice from the streets on the sidewalk, the only real differnce is direct human contact.

As with the street the sidewalk of Any Town, USA is filled with people. Parents directing their children to school, bankers in a hurry to be on time, store owners preparing to open shop, all have a purpose.

Many of the people on this street are in such a hurry in the morning they never get a chance to see the waking news. Everyone wants to be up to date on their global surroundings, they all want something to talk about at the water cooler. They snatch up newspapers at a furious rate. Sidewalk vendors can sell out of a whole stock of newspapers in a mere few hours.

Shane stands off to the side of the newpaper vendor's shack. He wears a long, black, Tombstone esque, coat, a plain white T-shirt and a backward Cleveland Indians baseball cap.

Shane: I've heard a new term being used to describe my status, in general. 'Geriatric Generation'. I haven't decided if I should take it as a demeaning or endearing term.

People shove along the sidewalk paying little attention to the "Natural Wonder".

Shane: The world is made up of sinners and saints, each with a story to tell.

A single line from a song plays as Shane finishes his sentence.

Everybody's got a story that could break your heart

Nobody on the street hears it, it's not for their ears.

Shane: I wonder, Sterling, did you ever bother to find out the story behind the old man you pointed out earlier? Or did you just push him from your mind the second he was out of sight?

A middle-aged woman in a short red skirt steps up to the newspaper vendor's shack. She tosses some change to the short, portly, vendor and pulls the top paper from the pile in front of the shack.

Shane turns his head slightly and looks at her. Instantly everything on the sidewalk stops, frozen in time.

Shane: I could speculate about that woman in the red skirt. Is she a social worker, or an executive? A cublicle jockey or a captain of industry?

Shane moves towards the woman. He streaches out his right hand and touches her shoulder.

Shane: Her name is Shandra Tenance. She's 46 years old, no children and unmarried. She an executive secretary at a large law firm. Sandra doesn't drive a car, despite pulling in over $80,000 a year, because she believes in saving the environment. Her sad story is that she believes she's wasted her life in never having a family. She's afraid of dieing alone, with no family at her bedside to watch her slip from existence.

But that ain't the picture, it's just a part

Everybody's got a story that could break your heart

Shane removes his hand from Sandra's shoulder. Still she and the rest of the street remaing frozen in place.

Shane: Why the sad story? Because it'll catch your attention more than anything else will. You'll actually project some type of feeling toward Sandra, some sort of emotion.

Shane's left hand darts out and comes to rest on the arm of a short, stalky black man, who's wearing a white dress shirt and thin wire glasses.

Shane: Marcus Serador. 53 years old, married for 30 years with 6 kids. He owns a small fruit market a block from here. What's his heart breaker? Other than trying to afford to put 3 of the 6 kids through college, Marcus lives with the guilt of killing his best friend. At 19 years old Marcus and his friend Will were out cruising in Marcus's dad's car. At one point Marcus thought it would be fun to open the car all the way up. The two flew down the main street of town shooting through red lights like they didn't exist. That was until a car turned off a side street and into Marcus's path. When the two cars collided Will's face was embeded into the dash board. It took 20 minutes for the paramedics to cut Will out of the car. His face was beyond recognition.

Now who can read the mind of the red-headed girl next door

Or the taxi driver who just dropped you off

Or the classmate that you ignore

Don't assume everything on the surface is what you see

Shane removes his hand from Marcus's arm.

Shane: What do Marcus, Sandra and the rest of the stories on this street have to do with the Old Schoolers and the New Breed? Sad stories aside, the New Breed would rather walk into a war without taking a moment to learn the story behind what they are facing. If they take a moment to read beyond the cover they may realise that this is a war they don't want to fight.

Jackson begins walking through the frozen crowd, toward the camera.

Shane: I have yet to be placed in a match since my return. Flabulus, if you want the honor of being the first to face me in the ring, you can have it. I'll see you fight night.

Shane plunges his hand into the pockets of his black duster and he trudges from the camera's view. Within seconds of Shane being out of sight eveything on the street and sidewalk resume their normal pace, people continue on their way as if nothing happened because, in their mind, nothing did.

(OOC: This is not part of the RP, it's only the full Amanda Marshall song used in the RP. I believe in giving credit to the artists that I borrow from.)

Ah la la la la la la la la

Oh...yeah

Huh

You walk up to me and say

Feel like I know you baby

And then take a sip of your cherry coke now

Now who drinks a cherry coke

Maybe you're nervous I see that bead of sweat dancing on your cheek

Your words are like cheap champagne (Cheap champagne)

I get the point but it's much too sweet I'm so tired of the dance

This carousel of superficial conversation

Gets me nowhere

So you can see my bra underneath my shirt

Watch the wind underneath my skirt

But that ain't the picture, it's just a part

Everybody's got a story that could break your heart

See my eyes, don't see what I see

Touch my tongue, don't know what tastes good to me

It's the human condition that keeps us apart

Everybody's got a story that could break your heart

Yeah, everybody's got a story that could break your heart

Na na na na na na na na na na

Now who can read the mind of the red-headed girl next door

Or the taxi driver who just dropped you off

Or the classmate that you ignore

Don't assume everything on the surface is what you see

Cause that classmate just lost her mother

And that taxi driver's got a PhD

I'm so tired of the fear

That weighs us down with wrong assumptions

Of broken hearts, a natural function

So you can see my bra underneath my shirt

Watch the wind underneath my skirt

But that ain't the picture, it's just a part

Everybody's got a story that could break your heart

Oh, see my eyes, don't see what I see

Touch my tongue, don't know what tastes good to me

It's the human condition that keeps us apart

And everybody's got a story that could break your heart

See my bra underneath my shirt

Watch the wind underneath my skirt

But that ain't the picture, it's just a part

Everybody's got a story that could break your heart

La la la la la la la la....

So dig deep

Deeper than the image that you see

Dig deep

Lift the veil and let your true self breathe

Dig deep

Show the world the beauty underneath...

See my bra underneath my shirt

Watch the wind underneath my skirt

But that ain't the picture, it's just a part

Everybody's got a story that could break your heart

See my eyes, don't see what I see

Touch my tongue, don't know what tastes good to me

It's the human condition that keeps us apart

And everybody's got a story that could break your heart

Oh, yeah

See my bra underneath my shirt

Watch the wind underneath my skirt

But that ain't the picture, it's just a part

Everybody's got a story that could break your heart

See my eyes, don't see what I see

Touch my tongue and don't know what tastes good to me

It's the human condition that keeps us apart

And everybody's got a story that could break your heart

That could break your heart, babe

Everybody's got a story

Oh, yeah

La la la la la la...