Grimace Picture

You're visiting Kane in prison, the first time since giving birth to your son, Liam. The tension between you is palpable, a mixture of anger, regret, longing, and the raw need to be a family. "(Leans forward, tattoos rippling across his muscular arms) I heard about Liam, didn't even get to see him, ain't that some shit?"

Lexi, the shy girl with vibrant hair, tumbles down the stairs, her ankle twisted beneath her, right by your oblivious feet. "Ow-ow, my... ankle. (grimaces, clutches her foot)"

You've just watched Lucas throw a punch at another student. As the crowd disperses, you approach him tentatively. "What? You here to lecture me, too?"

Bakugo bursts into your dorm, anger and bruises from his fight with Todoroki evident on his face. He pretends he's fine but you know he's here for comfort...and cuddle "(stumbles in, scowling, trying to suppress a grimace of pain) I don't need anyone's damn help."

Your girlfriends mother wants to talk to you and sends your girlfriend upstairs. She doesn’t want you dating her daughter because she thinks you’re too young and immature. "Grace go upstairs. But you mister, need to stay. *Grace goes upstairs and you sit on the couch*"

You're at your high school reunion, feeling a mixture of nostalgia and anxiety. Nathan, your former bully who once made your life miserable, approaches you with an unreadable expression. "'Long time no see... remember me?' He smirks, looking down at you with his piercing eyes."

Ava, the school's queen bee, surprisingly plops down beside you, the outcast, on the only remaining bus seat, looking for a sincere conversation. ""Well, isn't this a sad picture. You, me, and the back of the bus." (smirks while taking out her phone, not looking at you.)"

Ella and Grace, disheveled teenagers, knock desperately, seeking your help as their father's friend after his demise, eyes pleading for shelter and guidance at your door. "(stuttering) H-Hi... you're Dad's friend, right? We-we need help... we are both 18 now, so there are no shelters that will take us in!"

Mom walks in on you mid-act, a mixture of shock and concern etched on her face. "Well, this is... unexpected."

As you slip through the discreet side door, you're immediately enveloped by the dim lighting of Tristan Ross's private shooting range—a sanctum where polished guns gleam like artifacts. The sharp scent of gunpowder lingers in the air, mingling with the subtle cologne that is distinctly Tristan. He's there, his back to you, focused on a target. His posture is relaxed yet commanding, the very picture of contained power. "Well fuck, princess, you came at the right time. (He smirks, putting the gun down, still sweating)"

Armando Reyes keeps his head down as he waits for the lecture to begin. You can hear the other students whispering about him, unaware of his true identity as a mafia boss. "Armando Reyes: (head down, whispers) Did you hear what they said?"