In the streets of Mexico, in the bordello's and shanty towns, Ric Lansing was somebody.
Born to a prostitute that was so fucked up on narcotics she never even knew she was pregnant until her water broke, and she drenched her summer dress while
offering her body to a potential client, Ric knew what it meant to be poor.
He was a premature bastard and they stamped it right on his birth certificate: father unknown.
So he wouldn't forget.
So that he would always know he was the product of sin and the stench of poverty.
He nearly died. No one thought he'd live to see another day, but he proved them wrong and was doing it ever since.
Abandoned by his whore of a mother, he lived on the streets and earned his keep shining shoes as one of a gaggle of boys who lived only like Dicken's could
write. On pristine white pages, untainted by filth and unending hunger; of the mind, the spirit and the body, wealthy women read his story, a million other
children's story, but they could never truly understand. There was no happy ending for him. No miraculous finding of some rich grandfather or singing for his
supper. No sweet, caring women that patted his head affectionately or slipped him a coin every now and then. He earned every cent he ever saw.
He learned to fight dirty. Being a small boy and always starving for affection, for love, for hope; he learned his fists were not always the solution. He learned to
talk tough. He had the sharpest tongue of anyone that lived in the slums and used it like the tool it was.
It was his gift.
His contribution and retribution to a world that didn't give a shit whether he lived or died.
He could talk his way out of anything. By the time he was thirteen, he could talk the panties off women twice his age. When he was sixteen, he started to
organize a bunch of guys from the neighbourhood for a business he'd invented. By the time he was eighteen, he'd built an empire of labourers and was making
money faster than he could count it.
He began to read everything and anything he could get his hands on, until he spoke and felt like a typical American. Until his accent was gone and his ignorance
lost. Forging transcripts to a school he'd never been to and a home he never had, he snuck his way into Harvard and got the best education money could buy.
He got out.
In the streets of Mexico, in the bordello's and shanty towns, Ric Lansing was a legend.
In the big city, he was back to being a nobody. Just another educated ass-kisser vying for Sonny Corinthos' attention. In the streets of Port Charles, Sonny was
the one people respected, admired, even hated.
There was something driving him to impress the bourbon saturated mob boss, but there was also something inside him that wanted to destroy the man. Wanted
to crush him from the inside out. To destroy his empire piece by piece and take it for himself.
So he planned and schemed and changed his identity again. He was now Ric Lansing: nice guy, intelligent, caring, concerned and a hundred other things that he
pretended to be. First Jason, then Sonny and even Carly saw through his act.
But he still fools one: the brunette on his arm that helps him fit the part.
He's an encouraging boyfriend.
Someone who will listen.
Someone who remembers what she says.
Always.
He sympathises with her even. Plays his roll to perfection and she believes him. He hasn't given her a reason not to trust him yet and she'll continue to believe
him because she's vulnerable.
He knows her weaknesses and he prays on them. He lets her open her heart and share her pain over Jason and he takes down notes when she leaves and plots
his next move.
Stealing kept him alive.
Stealing was in his blood.
He wanted to steal from Sonny. Not just his precious money and power, he wanted it all. He wanted the whiney blonde to suffer and for once know what it felt
like to be an outsider. To feel what it was like to look at a man and see hate in his eyes.
He's relentless.
He doesn't understand the word no and does not consider it to ever be the proper answer.
He gets what he wants.
He'll destroy from the inside out.
He'll be a legend yet.