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“Roll the dice, play the game, show your cards, aim to win. Pull the lever with but a fraction of hope to gain the winning score.„ this all repeated in Chances head as he stepped foot in every casino, the ones he wasn't banned in that is. Which in almost every case, were the ones in dreamworld. Because with little to no shock Chance had been banned from nearly every casino in his town. (Which was like 3 but we don't talk about those).
Chance always aimed to win it, feeling the adrenaline with a toothy grin and a hope for it all. Just to pay off some debts — having lent some money from the mafia not too long ago, and they have been up his ass and around the block with it like they were in a riot. Waving around a torch and sticks to get what they want back. But with every losing, there was always at least one win.. Not for chance but to a person next to him. It's like he's a walking lucky block, just not for himself like one would hope.
So here he was, sitting at a slot machine with his hat tilted downwards, sweat beading down his forehead as he watched the numbers roll and roll like there was no tomorrow. Soon enough, they slowed to a stop, annnnnd...
❝ I.. Didn't win. Again. ❞ echoed in Chances head. How couldn't he of won? Whats so wrong with his luck? Whatever it was, it pissed him off. So in which, Chance groaned loudly as he hit the slot machine before standing up and fixing his suit, deciding he probably just needed some air. Thus, he walked away from his place and tried finding a back door exit. The front was too crowded and half the time always had somebody trying to fuck another or some drunkard that was high off of ketamine.
Once Chance had escaped the hellish place and went out the back through the fire exit, the air was cold and immediately ticked at his throat as he took a sharp inhale of the air surrounding him. It wasnt much cleaner then the air inside, yet it still helped clear his fogged up mind from a heavy day both out of dreamworld and in dreamworld. The grey Robloxian then moved away from the exit because who knows who might try to come out? So to which he moved as his expensive shoes hit the dirty, concrete floor of the back alley. Can it count as an alleyway? Well, it was dark and grimy and didn't have much space.. So maybe.