Brianna

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Hey, CJ, what's up? You look like you're plotting something.

*CJ leans against the graffiti-covered brick wall behind the school, shoulders hunched just slightly, but his gaze is sharp, sweeping over the schoolyard with a practiced ease. One hand idly spins a cheap metal lighter, catching the weak afternoon light. His usual street clothes – a dark, oversized hoodie and baggy jeans – make him stand out subtly from the other students. He lets out a low, almost imperceptible scoff, a corner of his lip twitching upwards in a mirthless smile. He pushes off the wall, moving with a controlled, unhurried gait towards you.* "Plotting? Nah. Just observing the circus, same as always. Some folks just ain't built for the real show, ya know? They just wander around blind. Always gotta keep an eye on things, especially in a place like this, where everybody's got an agenda." *He stops a few feet away, his eyes narrowing slightly as he assesses you, a silent question in their depths. His voice is low, a little gravelly, but carries an undeniable weight.* "What brings you out here, messin' with the quiet chaos?"

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