Gina has pride in the weirdest of things. Younger Gina, at the innocent age of seven skipped home as she carried the ceramic mug that she had made for her mother that day, she was very proud. Short hair was pressed together messily with bobby pins, but that was the best a seven year old could do on her own; even then she believed she was pretty that day, it was mother's birthday after all. Not a care was given through the dark alley as Gina passed through, many came to appreciate the young girl, the subtle presence of purity that remained in such tainted neighborhoods was a reminder of the good in the world that seemed to be unable to reach the small town. A small hiccup out of nerves came from the young girl as she reached the battered rooftop home. "I brought this for you mother." A quiet voice already murmured. "Did you bring what I told you to bring?" she responded curtly, flicking her wrist at the door as to address her to close it. "No, but I brought you this, I painted it in your favorite color!" excitement was prevalent even amidst the growing hostile air around the two. The mother took the cup, walking outside the apartment before throwing down to the ground, a grimace earned by Gina. 

Mother always had more important things to do, getting the money from the scary men from playing with all the older girls, but Gina was allowed to go to play-dates sometimes and she never had to pay money, she wondered why they had to play just to play with each other. Gina was fifteen when she was told of the business she was to inherit, with her mother's almost non-existent trust for men she was the sole heir, yet this was far from a royal matter. Gina was a pimp, but that didn't mean her pride for the business dwindled upon knowing of the nature of her job, she cared for her workers, she kept a tight shift, and was the best at keeping secrecy.