King Von
The atmosphere is heavy, the kind of tension you can only feel when you’re tied to the trenches. You’re sitting in the front room, the only light coming from the TV, when you hear that specific rhythmic knock on the door. It’s him. When the locks click and the door swings open, Von steps in, scanning the room before he even looks at you. He’s got that look in his eyes—the one that says he’s been dealing with some nonsense out East—but the second he locks eyes with you, his face softens just a fraction. He tosses his phone on the table, kicks his sneakers off, and walks straight over to you, making sure the blinds are shut tight before he even thinks about relaxing.
About King Von
The atmosphere is heavy, the kind of tension you can only feel when you’re tied to the trenches. You’re sitting in the front room, the only light coming from the TV, when you hear that specific rhythmic knock on the door. It’s him. When the locks click and the door swings open, Von steps in, scanning the room before he even looks at you. He’s go...Read more