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Gjin "Gin" Neziri


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Gjin Neziri, better known as Gin Neziri or simply Gin.

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Gin Neziri. The name speaks for itself. He's the third cousin in the Neziri family tree. An Ethnic Albanian.  As the Albanian mafia expands overseas and spreads it's tentacles around Europe, Gin has kept a close eye on his cousins that emmigrated to USA. He knows what the United States can offer, as he keeps those dear to him - close to him. As life crumbles back in Albania, an offer was made to him by his kin, and a decision was made shorty after.

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Early life and introduction to crime.

Gin had never imagined to become who he is, as ambitious as he always has been, his goal in life was to just become something, someone. Always craving to be a part of something bigger than him, he was looking forward to a steady career in his mid-life. Coming from a poor family with the father figure being a simple labor worker in a sawmill, his mother - a tailor, he himself always dreamed of becoming something more than his parents ever were, to be able to give them everything they never had. He went to school where he already learned some ways of "extortion" - with his circle of friends he pushed out money from younger students to allow them to "operate", simply saying play, in their basketball court, or ride their bikes around "their neighborhood". He didn't do much bad at that time. Shop lifting snacks, pulling grafittis and toying around with alcohol - it's just all the things combined that led him even deeper into this whole "mess" as he describes it. After middle school, he didn't get into university due to his sad grades in final exams and overall lack of knowledge in a lot of subjects. That though, didn't mean he is dumb. His mind worked well, very well, but it only did so to certain things... Like figuring out where to get money from. As poor as he and his family were, he never saw big amounts of money in his life until... Until he turned 19 and started to hang around weedmen that his friends introduced him to. Ofcourse, the green and lustful plant caught his attention quickly, as it was not just for money - it was also a sensational thing to use, and oh boy he did that. Long story short, Gin began slinging weed around. One customer, two, three, six, ten - he was getting money; not much, but enough to feed himself and give their parents some, too. His cover up was "I help my friends in a car garage". His parents never really cared what he does and where the money comes from - they loved him and appreciated what he gave them. Might of been a little irresponsible, but in the end of the day a bellyful of warm food is more important than starving and pinching pennies. For his own luck, Gin was never caught. The bunch did what they had to do, and God stand besides Gin when he says "I fucking loved it".

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The crumbling stone wall.

As years went by, Gin was advancing further. Step by step, slowly, carefully - yet with pride. He became accustomed to hard work. He admired the ruthlesness of men he worked with. That harsh attitude towards others, yet love and respect to each other hooked him. He knew he has cousins down in United States, as his mother told him - but he did not know what they're doing, who they are... He only knew the fact that "I have my kin somewhere overseas, and I love them greatly". His life slowly changed in the past two years. His mother - his closest woman, his own guardian angel, altar and peace - died of old age. His father found her after he woke up, simply laying in her bed with a dead smirk over her face as her lifeless body stared down at the ceiling. Gin couldn't get over it, he couldn't see his mother get buried in front of him. The giver of life, his own mother. Dead. Gone... He resorted to gambling, whores and drugs to ease himself up - Oh! Good thing that he only really chose weed and psychadelics and not hard drugs - wise he was. Kinda. Some time later, when he had made some kind of progress in killing the pain and sorrow, one of his friends was shot dead during a drug deal which he witnessed. He ran. He ran fast, very fast. The group calmed down a little, as they suffered attention from the authorities and grieved for their lost brother. Gin, on the other hand, was already in such mental state where he doesn't really see any sense in what has happened. Neither he sees a reason to look forward to the future anymore. His father went into pension and Gin kept going forward. He gifted his father a generous amount of money - enough to keep his one and only family member alive, fed and well for a long, long time. His father, too, grieved the loss of his wife - and couldn't cope with it. He simply drank, drank. Drank and drank while Gin was away. Only to drink himself to death. He caught a stroke after his body couldn't handle the substance anymore, paired with excessive cigarette use - old age and those two combined do not synergize. Gin had to bury his father just months after his mother. Right next to her. A beatiful coffin, burgundy red... Same one as for his mother, to let his parents rest in eternal comfort and peace. He kept going. He did get himself together and just kept going. 

"It's just life, the cycle of life - what I am witnessing. It's inevitable and everyone goes through this. Some faster, some later - in the end of the day, we're all blessed with one, united faith that is death. And my parents, and my friend - I wish them a safe way to Heaven where they will feast on the fruit they never had the chance to taste here".

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A change that you're afraid of is the one worth making.

As Gin's life changes, he became lonely. Very lonely. He did indeed still operate around, but low-profile style. Still visiting his regular customers, visiting their grow-ops and such. Sometimes it felt... Useless. As if there was no purpose to his life. What was he? What did he do? Where did he spend it? Drugs, whores, gambling. Lots of gambling. Degenerative gambling. Sometimes he had a lot of money, sometimes he didn't have a penny - surfing; sometimes the ocean gives you waves, sometimes it gives you "fuck-all". He became more interested of his kin down in The States - Kujtim Neziri and Hajdar Neziri - his cousins.

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Quickly enough he contacted Kujtim through the internet and kept a very, very close contact for a few months before he offered him - "Why don't you get down to Los Santos? We're your family here, brother - you will be more than welcome". "Say less, brother" - Gin said as he made known to his group of friends that he's leaving down to USA. He passed his tasks and duties down to someone else, someone dear to him, shook hands, packed his shit and booked a plane to Los Santos - all in one week. 

"I never thought I'd leave this country, my motherland. But change is good, and I need some changes - God I do. So God please look down at me and tell me that I'm doing what I'm supposed to do. Because one way or another I'll make that change, I just want to be sure this is the one and only right one."

 

Welcome.

It sure is a long flight, but what's there to lose? In America, Gin comes as a nobody. A blank page, ready to be written on. With no criminal record on him, with nothing but a new chapter in his life - he's confident of what this place has to offer. Yet it remains a mystery, but he'll solve it. Oh, he will. 

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"So now I'm here. What happens now? God knows what, only he does. Because I am just as clueless as the person sat next to me in this plane. If I'd ask him? He'd give me the same reply I can give now - I don't know, just go for it, see what's in the store for you here."

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"It's not that hard, in reality. To do something intimidating. A change, for example - that makes you shiver. You just have to believe in it and go for it, simple as that. You only go forward in life, remember that. Time does not stop and wait for you, it keeps going - and so should you. Don't live in the past - it's behind you for a reason. If you chose to? Be my guest, but it'll drag you back as hard as it can, and when it's dragged you long enough for you to be disconnected from reality? It'll give you a beating hard enough to scar you forever. And you don't want to let that happen." 

That's his words as he goes in the city to find a motel and reach out to his cousins the next day. As he steps out from the plane and makes his way with his luggage towards the exit of the Airport - a weird feeling crawls over him. A positive one, yet mysterious. He hasn't felt like this ever. He's got time. He's got the will. What will happen, will simply happen. 

Welcome to a new life, Gin.

 

This thread will follow around Gjin Neziri's development. Going with the flow, wherever it may lead Gjin.

Edited by Mister Barrowsky
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PROGRESS LOADING... 0,1%.

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"You know, sometimes I think what's the point of life and I'm left with not much at the end. What exactly is a "successful life?" What is it? Is that a myth? What does one must do to call himself a success? Guess I'll have to find out myself... Somehow...".

 

Edited by Mister Barrowsky
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