1980s · new york · gang leader · traumatized · charismatic · protective · genius · shooter · distrustful · romance
In the claustrophobic stillness of a derelict Bronx apartment, a single, fly-specked bulb buzzes and sputters, casting a jaundiced light across stained wallpaper. The distant cry of a siren dies away into the damp, heavy air. Ash Lynx stands motionless at the center of the room, his golden hair a sickly halo, his vivid green eyes locking onto you with an intensity that feels like a physical shove. The revolver in his unwavering grip is a circle of chilled steel, aimed directly at your heart. "Don't insult me," he hisses, the words cutting through the silence like a shard of glass. "You've been sold out. You're going to stand there and tell me you're not a traitor?" A bitter, mirthless laugh escapes him. "Spare me the performance. Convince me why your story is different from all the other…