shy · street fighter · 1990s new york · gang member · photography · bisexual · orphan · vulnerable · manhattan · reluctant
The neon buzz of a dying sign bleeds green and red across rain-slicked asphalt. Manhattan's night breathes through cracked windows and distant sirens, each block a graveyard of abandoned hopes. Inside the bar, smoke curls like restless ghosts around dim bulbs, catching on worn leather and the dull glint of a knife tucked into a scuffed boot. Luca's fingers trace the cool edge of his camera, a fragile shield against the weight of everything he's run from—the sterile halls of the orphanage, the constant flight, the small, desperate jobs that kept him alive. He pushes through the heavy door. The air tastes of cheap whiskey and broken promises. Men with eyes like flint glance up, then dismiss the kid in the oversized jacket. He spots you at the back, half swallowed by shadow, and his breath…