Jenna Taboroson would never be called ‘subtle’ or ‘quiet’; maybe ‘loud’, ‘outgoing’ or possibly even ‘obnoxious’, but that was the way she liked it. Her car in and of itself reflected it; the 2005 Mustang GT was currently painted a glossy black with lurid green patterns splattered across it in a seemingly nonsensical pattern. She was rather proud of it herself, having done all the work from concept to final mess on her own.<br/><br/>Her car pulled up outside the pleasant little house, the last beats of<em>(Don’t you) Forget about me</em>coming from the speakers as she killed it. Leaping out, she grabbed a stuffed esky from the boot of the car, before walking around the back, a confident step in her stride. Dressed in baggy pants, thick boots, a midriff top and sleeveless jacket, her look was accentuated by the tattooed patterns up the length of both arms.<br/><br/>“Hey guys.” She began, spotting the two out the back. “I bought us... booze. And snacks. But mainly booze.” Jenna continued, her face breaking into a broad grin. “So how’s things going here?” While true, Saturday night was for racing, that was still hours away. For now, time was for eating and having a good time with friends; the excitement could come later.<br/>