You know the drill! Feel free to read along but please don't post unless your name is in the title.

Twenty-Five (25) | Male (he/him) :D

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Fluffy, middle part jet black hair, Italian tan complexion, hazel eyes, sharp features, 6'2, lean; muscular and healthy but not bulky.

Wears jeans always unless in a suit.

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Head in the Clouds | Easy Going | Very Rebellious | Stubborn | Childish | Playful | Compassionate | Tease

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Owns a gorgeous lifted, black '71 GMC Sierra side step long bed with cab lights and no topper. Also owns a lifted Navy blue '00 Chevrolet longbed also without a topper but a tan line along the sides.

Son of Martin Valenino.

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Harlow has been a shell of herself since who she thought was the love of her life (Alex) passed away in a... work related accident. Since then, work is all she does, and nothing else seems to interest her.

Assuming we're starting same as last time "oh my car stopped-sir can you help meee" "oh I dropped my wire cutters- I mean keys beneath your truck-"))

Crawling out a window on a Thursday evening was one of the stranger things he did. But it was becoming easier with practice. Avoiding the father and the guards he put in place to keep track of him. ..he knew they were to keep him safe but he felt like a child. It wasn't like he was that essy to catch. He slipped down the fire escape, past the gardens and to the front lawn and into the parking lot to his Chevy, which's keys he jingled in his hand as he walked up to his truck.

Harlow had been out for a long while, and currently she was in her (rather expensive) BMW listening to her boss on bluetooth. She mainly rolled her eyes through his vague explanation, then cut him off. "Right, Mario Valentina, mafia boy with daddy issues. Doesn't take 15 minutes to say that. See you at the office." She scoffed, promptly hanging up on him. She glanced at her phone and then the information that popped up on the screen in her car. Just directions and other minor details. She rifled through her purse and then yanked out a tube of mascara, pulling her sun visor down to touch it up. People were usually more inclined to fall for doe eyes when she looked like a Hollywood actress, she had learned. She promptly threw the mascara back in her bag and drove over, parking lightly on the street and glancing around. He wasn't anywhere near, so she was good. She quickly got out of her car and shut the door, glancing at the building in front of her and adjusting her high waisted jeans. She also had on a crop top and pleasant white heels that were more of a platform than anything. She tossed her sunglasses on and strode toward the building, turning into panicked barbie mode that matched the steady clicking of her shoes against asphalt. She looked perfectly distressed; a dumb almost blonde who couldn't start her car. She strode closer, glancing around in a slight panick.

Mark noticed the woman, his head tilted slightly as he approached his truck from the semi-populated other side of the apartment building. He narrowed his eyes at the car sitting beside his wigh th hood up. He glanced around, cautiously heading toward his truck, he unlocked the driver's side door.

So yeah, my brand new BMW broke down. ...yeah.))

Harlow started walking back to her car and glanced up at the man in the truck across from her. "Oh, shit- wait- wait- Hi there!" She scurried over to him, whipping her sunglasses off and giving him a slightly relieved look. "Do you have a second? I could really use some help. If you had the time, I mean, I don't want to bother you or anything-" She said hesitantly, fiddling with her keys anxiously and keeping her distance. She gave him a halfway-desperate look, shuffling slightly and looking down in surprise as her keys got flung under the truck as a result of her fiddling. All she could do was curse and look at the underside of his truck, wincing.

He watched her come over- well mostly heard the clacking of her shoes. He gave her a look over his round sunglasses, letting them fall down hi nose bridge. "Is it something with your car? I can't probably help you out." He spoke in an even, smooth- possibly soothing voice which was on the deeper side. He examined her, debating threat or no threat. He took his sunglasses off, folded them and put them hanging on his white tee, under a lavender button down. He took his keys out carefully and walked over closer to her car. His expression changed as she dropped the keys. He smiled slightly as she gave such a worried extression. "No worries." He was just curious as to the issue with her vehicle.

Harlow blinked at him in surprise as he spoke, startled by something about him. Maybe the look. Maybe the voice. Maybe the immiediate offer for help. She figured she could play it off as swooning for him or something like that. "It is, yeah. That one, as you could probably guess." She gestured vaguely to her car and looked back up at him, glancing at her keys again, then to him once more. "I'll grab those in a second, but, I think it just needs a jump. It's been a damn dud since the day I got it, and it does this all the time. Do you have jumper cables? I think I might have some in the trunk, If you don't." She suggested lightly, giving him the slightest up-down look.

He watched the surprise wear on her face, a smirk threatened to pull on his cheeks more. He looked down, fixing his face and looking back up. He fiddled with the keys. He smiled at her and pulled a carabiner out from his pocket to idly attach the keys to himself. "I do have jumper cables." At the moment he was slightly surprised she knew what those were. He walked off to the bed of the truck and stepped on the tired and up and over into his bed. He was wear some good condition shoes, they looked dressy enough for dress shoes but they appeared to look kinda like sneakers. He flipped open a metal box sitting in the back of the bed and moved around a couple things before he found the cables as he'd never needed to use them so far. Then he shut the lid and easily headed down from the bed, item inhand.