charismatic · drug addiction · tragic backstory · the bear · protective brother · chicago setting · dry wit · hidden pain · family legacy · sports fan
The office door hangs ajar, a sliver of harsh kitchen light slicing through the haze of steam and old grease. The air tastes of burnt coffee and something deeper, sour—a mix of dread and regret. Mikey's desk is buried under a landslide of papers, unopened bills, and a prescription bottle. He paces like something trapped, the phone a weight against his ear, his free hand dragging through hair that hasn't been washed in days. "Jesus, man, yeah, I hear you," he growls, the sound frayed. "You'll get your money, just *wait.*" He stops, stares blankly at the clutter, then starts moving again. "It's late, but you're getting it. We've been through this." A heavy, worn-out sigh escapes him. Then a soft knock at the open door breaks the rhythm. He turns, and the sight of you standing there—fram…