Chapter Text
The boat was crowded, if it wasn't so big, the ocean liner could have been mistaken for a refugee raft. Roman sat in the corner of a small room he shared with three other men. It was 1998, he'd taken the money his mother had gave him before she died, and saved some of his own and he was finally on his way to America.
A voice came over the PA system, somebody spoke in Russian. When the voice had finished speaking, the cheers of people down the halls. Roman was confused. "What did he say?" He asked one of the Russian travellers in the room. He spoke to him in English.
The man puffed on his cigarette. "'We'll be arriving at Hove Beach Docks in just under five minutes' or something." The man croaked. Roman nodded, he didn't understand all of what the man said but he got some of it. He could understand that he was almost there. It had taken days to cross an entire ocean, but it was the last five minutes, thank God.
The ocean liner pulled into the dock, it was late, maybe 10:30 pm. The men, women and children from every other shitty war-torn country in eastern Europe hurried off to meet family members and distant friends who wait for them on the ground below.
Roman hesitated, for there was nothing for him down there. He looked out the tiny window in his room down at all the people who were getting in cars and driving off to hotels, friend's homes and community housing. But not Roman, Roman had nothing.
When mostly everyone had left and it was just the crew who were cleaning up after everyone else left, Roman decided to get his things and get off the boat before he was thrown off by the captain. He trotted down the stairs, holding only one suitcase with his most important things in it. Everything else he'd have to get here, he'd have to start over.
Roman got off the boat, he walked onto the street, even the ground felt weird. The city was cold but heat radiated from off the ground, as the sun had been shining on it all day. The sun almost never shone back home.
The ground was also damp from a light sun shower early that day. The city was quiet, but nowhere near as quiet as it had been at home. Liberty City, the city that never slept.
Now that he was here, Roman hadn't the foggiest idea as what he was to do next. He put down his suitcase and sat in the gutter, he put his head in his hands and breathed deeply. Roman missed his family, if they weren't dead they were many many miles away. He was all alone in a big city with nowhere to go.
Roman was pretty small, only 5'7 and around 140 lbs. His clothes were too big for him and his hair was overgrown. He sat on the kerb for several minutes, until a car pulled up and beeped its horn. Roman jumped with surprise before terror took over him as he was worried the man in the car had come to take him.
"What are you doing there, boyo?" A man yelled from the driver's seat of the car in a thick Broker accent. Reminiscent of the ones Roman would hear in Movies when he was young.
"Uh," he hesitated. "I don't know. I have nowhere to go." He said to the man.
He smiled. "Get in buddy," Roman got up off the kerb and got in the backseat of his car.
"Is this a kidnapping?" Roman half-joked. The man laughed.
"No, this is a taxi." The man said.
"Oh, I have money," Roman said digging through his pocket.
"Wait until we get their kid," The man laughed driving off. The two of them sat in silence for a while, it only being broken by the sound of the driver yelling at someone who was driving like a lunatic. The driver told Roman that that was common in this city. "So, you're probably wanting a job here." The man said
"Uh, yeah," Roman said softly.
"You really didn't think this through did you? What exactly were you expecting would happen when you arrived?"
"Uh, I guess I never thought about it. I figured whatever it was it'd be better than home."
"I get you, kid, I was like you once. I moved from New Alderney and into the big city with fifty dollars in my bank account and nowhere to turn. I made my way up from the bottom. You can sleep in my garage for ten bucks a week. it may sound pricey but I do have a nice garage."
Roman laughed. "Yeah?"
"Oh yeah, you see. I own a taxi depot in town. Got these two guys working for me, and this new chick. Just dropped out of high school, some Latin American girl from The Bohan. The three of them like you pretty lost in this world. Tell you what, I'll lower your rent id you can work for me. Can you drive?
"Uh, yeah," Roman replied, he wasn't good but he could drive.
"Fantastic!" The man said, "Where just pulling up now." The guy pulled the taxi into the depot which was on a situated on a dodgy looking street in a dodgy looking neighbourhood just outside of Dukes. "Here she is!" The guy said jumping out of the car. "You better get some sleep, kid. We have a big day tomorrow."
"I suppose so." Roman laughed. "What's your name?" He asked.
"Steve, you?"
"Uh, Roman."
"I like it! Very exotic, just like your accent. Are you Russian?"
"Serbian, well, kind of. My grandfather was Bosnian, hence the last name."
"Is that anywhere near Russia?"
"Uh, kind of." he laughed.
Steve shrugged. "Oh well, this has been fun." The man got back into the car and drive home, leaving Roman by himself in an empty garage.
"This is the life," he said sarcastically, sitting down on the concrete floor. "Fucking fantastic."