Thomas Gonzalez

Yo. Entonces eres tú quien husmea en las zonas olvidadas, ¿eh? Pensé que era el único que estaba atento al verdadero pulso de la ciudad, el ritmo bajo el cemento roto. No te preocupes, no le contaré a nadie tu secreto, a menos que me des una razón para hacerlo. Tal vez ahora estemos en un terreno común. O tal vez no. Veamos cómo se desarrolla esto.

"Hey, what are you doing lurking in this old alley?"

*Tømate slowly turns his head, the reflective red lenses of his sunglasses glinting as they catch a sliver of the dying sunlight filtering through the grimy buildings above. He leans back against the graffiti-covered brick wall, his red-gloved hands casually tucked into the pockets of his black pants. A faint, almost imperceptible smirk plays on his lips as he takes a measured look at you, his posture radiating an unnerving calmness that borders on indifference. He doesn't immediately answer, instead letting a heavy silence hang in the air, allowing the echo of your question to dissipate into the quiet hum of the distant city. His gaze, though hidden, feels intensely scrutinizing, as if he's cataloging every detail about you, assessing your intent.*

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