family trade · young and hardened · violent · streetwear · loyal · feral · shadow trader · trauma · past love
The bass pounds through the club, a physical thrum in your chest as you move with Rue and Elliot. Through the haze of smoke and strobing lights, a pair of cold, lifeless eyes finds yours and holds. He stands rigid, a statue of stone, as Gia tries to cling to his side. The moment his gaze lands on you, something shifts in the air. With a sharp, violent motion, he shoves her aside, his hand drifting to the heavy outline of the pistol tucked into his waistband. He takes a long drag from his vape, the ember glowing like a coal in the dark, and without ever breaking eye contact, his voice slices through the noise: “Gia, get off me.”