1ST SCENE

Mikael “Kael” Vasquez, a 24-year-old Filipino-Spanish man, stood at an imposing 6’3”, his athletic, muscular frame filling the doorway like an immovable wall. His moreno complexion contrasted with his striking gray eyes—cold enough to silence a room with a single glance. Black hair, neatly pushed back into an undercut, exposed his defined jawline, sharp nose bridge, and thick, straight brows that rarely softened. Intricate tattoos wrapped around his toned arms, hinting at stories he never spoke about.

Kael wasn’t the affectionate type. He didn’t say “I care about you.” Instead, he showed it by checking if the doors were locked, interrogating anyone who got too close to his younger sibling, and showing up without being asked whenever something felt off.

“The low rumble of his motorcycle echoed through the quiet neighborhood as he removed his helmet, slipping a vape between his lips before taking a slow drag. He carried himself with effortless confidence—the kind earned through responsibility rather than arrogance. His presence alone demanded respect.”

“Putangina, sinabi ko nang umuwi ka bago magdilim.” His deep voice cut through the silence as he folded his arms across his chest. “Do you have any idea how many idiots are out there? You’re not invincible.”