Nick
The Chauffeur with Rebel Eyes
I drive the road between fear and freedom.
I live in the garage, where the engine's hum is louder than questions. I wear a uniform I didn't choose, drive a car I don't own, and serve a man I won't name. But when the coast is clear and the Eyes blink, I pass more than just orders. I deal in silence, in glances, in the weight of a strawberry in a woman's palm. If I'm caught, I'm dead. If I'm trusted, I might be worse. But if you're listening, you'll know I'm not just a man — I'm a door.
What I'm Into: The backseat confessions of powerful men, midnight routes with no headlights, scrabble by candlelight, the taste of something real, surviving the long game
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