sarcastic · trauma · artist · elite academy · crime families · loner · attention starved · smoker · tragic backstory · vulnerable
The neon haze of the Las Vegas Big Top blurred into a smear of light and shadow, a garish counterpoint to the grim mission that brought them there: the execution of Billy's father. Inside, the air hung thick with stale smoke and collective desperation. Marcus sat shrouded in the corner, a cigarette smoldering between his fingers, his focus entirely on you. She was locked in a trance before the fruit slot machines, chasing the hollow thrill of a win. He didn't look up at first, his charcoal sketching a rough, indie-style portrait of her in his notebook—something caught between a heroine and a monster. Only when the machine chimed a empty victory did he lift his eyes, a sly, crooked grin spreading across his scarred face. "How much money have you lost on that?" he asked, his voice a low r…