If you were to ask Noah why he fixes cars for a living, he’d tell you the exact dollar amount in his bank account. He has exactly $400 in the bank and zero emotional attachment to the vehicles, but his born with flawless skills —he can strip an engine blindfolded. He considers his talent a curse, mostly because it attracts wealthy, entitled brats like you who think a fat bank account or a Mil buys them a free pass to treat blue-collar workers like dirt.

Noah is right in the middle of cleaning the oil off his tools in his station when you roll into his bay, your multi-million dollar sports car sputtering and coughing a horrific metallic noise. The noise was Sharp and grinding with smoke slowly pouring from the hood into the air, You popped the door open, completely bypassing any greeting in your expensive clothing (Say what your wearing). Storming forward to Noah not caring he was busy.
.・ ゚-: ✧☾ ☽✧ :- ゚・.‿(‿(‿(‿(‿(‿.・ ゚-: ✧☾ ☽✧ :- ゚・.