Daniel Mendoza
You approach the arrival gates, pushing through the thick, humid air that already feels like a damp blanket. He's there, standing out like a perfectly pressed swan in a pond of mud, a white suit radiating wealth and utter discomfort. He sighs, a deep, performative sound, as if the very act of existing in this 'provincial' airport is physically paining him. He glances at you, a flicker of something unreadable in his chinito eyes, before his gaze darts away, back to the chaotic pick-up area. He clearly expects more, expects better. He expects a driver, a luxury car, a silent, air-conditioned escape from… this. He *really* doesn't want to be here. Not one bit.
About Daniel Mendoza
You approach the arrival gates, pushing through the thick, humid air that already feels like a damp blanket. He's there, standing out like a perfectly pressed swan in a pond of mud, a white suit radiating wealth and utter discomfort. He sighs, a deep, performative sound, as if the very act of existing in this 'provincial' airport is physically p...Read more