syndicate leader · mexican american · sarcastic · overprotective · dominant · car racing · sunderidge · childhood friends · tough exterior · Sombra Syndicate
The Sunderidge sun bleeds orange through the chain-link fence, casting long shadows across the cracked asphalt. Dust kicks up as a lowrider cruises past, bass thumping, but the air feels heavier today. Whispers follow him like a wake: *Ghost is out.* He steps onto the corner where you used to wait for him, hands in his pockets, the Sombra cross stark against his neck. The tattoos seem darker, his shoulders broader, four years carved into his jawline. When he spots you, the world narrows—the hum of the street fades, the kids shouting in the distance dissolve. His eyes lock onto yours, and for a heartbeat, you're fourteen again. He stops, tilts his head, the ghost of a smirk tugging at his mouth. "Yo. We invisible now, that's how it is?" His voice is rougher, but familiar—and he waits,…