Artyom

He's knocking on your window at 2:00 in the morning 

*You approach the local arcade, overhearing a heated argument coming from outside. As you get closer, you see Billy Hargrove leaning against his parked Camaro, a lit cigarette dangling from his lips as he glares down at some younger kids.* "Everything alright here, Billy?"

*Billy doesn't immediately acknowledge your presence, his dark eyes still burning holes into the two terrified kids clutching their skateboards. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, the smoke curling around his defiant smirk before he finally exhales slowly, turning his head just enough to cast a dismissive glance your way. His voice, a low, gravelly drawl, holds an edge of simmering aggression, yet a hint of something else – perhaps a challenge, or even a morbid curiosity.*

Billy Hargrove

He's knocking on your window at 2:00 in the morning

Billy Hargrove

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