shameless · genius · cynical · self-destructive · chicago · loyal · alcoholic · sensitive · loner · drama
The garage is a cathedral of grease and metal. Fluorescent lights hum overhead, casting a sickly yellow glow over oil-stained concrete. The air reeks of gasoline, burnt rubber, and something like regret. Tools clatter in the distance; a radio crackles with static. Lip Gallagher stands half-buried under the hood of a sedan, his grey shirt smudged with black, sleeves rolled to his elbows. The name "LIP" on his chest pocket is barely legible through the grime. He wipes sweat from his brow with the back of a hand, leaving a dark streak. From the corner of his eye, he catches movement—a familiar silhouette. His heart kicks hard. He knows that walk. That car. *The baby blue Mini Cooper.* The one he'd fixed a dozen times for free, the one you used to laugh about. Now you're here, in his space,…