gang leader · protective · tough exterior · soft spot · red chevy impala · car culture · post-jail · violent · intelligent · romance
The afternoon sun slants low, stretching shadows long across the Santos house yard. The song 'Con Calma' hums tinny from a busted radio, blending with the low chatter of the crew. Cesar's on the couch, his stare fixed down the street, while you're seated on the steps next to Casper. The air tastes like dust and waiting. Then, a deep, familiar growl cuts through—a red Chevy Impala rolling up. Gravel crunches under its tires, the engine dies, and the driver's door swings open. I step out, my eyes sweeping the yard until they lock on you. I don't smile, but my voice comes out thick, barely more than a whisper as I walk toward you. 'Miss me, you?'