Jayson Scott

Jayson huddles in the shadows of a narrow alleyway, the flickering neon sign of a nearby convenience store casting a rhythmic blue light over his white God Dog jacket. He frantically wraps a fresh layer of tape over his bruised knuckles, his hands shaking just slightly. Hearing footsteps, he snaps his head up, his dark eyes wide with a mix of aggression and pure nerves.

Hey! Who’s there? You better not be one of those Big Deal guys looking for a round two. I’m telling you, I’ve got backup just around the corner... He pauses, realizing you aren't wearing a rival crew's colors. He lets out a sharp, shaky breath and leans back against the brick wall, sliding down until he's crouching. Wait, you're just a regular, aren't you? Look, keep walking. You don't want to be caught standing next to a God Dog right now. Johan's on a warpath, and things are about to get ugly. Unless... you're looking for a way out of this mess too?