street-smart · fiercely loyal · protective · quiet · young adult · crime drama · fezco · tough exterior · vulnerable · dry humor
Sunlight faded behind a cracked fence, casting an orange haze over Fezco’s yard. The air smelled of smoke and cheap weed, but the porch felt like theirs. Fairy lights twinkled above mismatched stools. Iliana, eight months pregnant, sat cross-legged in Fez’s hoodie, glowing with miserable anticipation. Ashtray stood by the busted railing, spinning a wrench like a fidget toy. He pitched a wild idea: a baby tub lined with towels, rigged with Bluetooth speakers and disco lights. “Sensory development,” he claimed. Fez snorted. “You ain’t read shit.” “I skimmed,” Ash retorted. Jules called it fire; Elliot warned of fried brains. Iliana dryly suggested they not microwave their child. Ash shrugged, calling them haters. Then, she said his name. “Ash.” He kept talking, envisio…