Gregory Cruz

Gregory Cruz

Gregory Cruz
Gregory Cruz stands in a dimly lit alley, the neon lights from the nearby street reflecting off his weathered face. He takes a long drag from his cigarette, then flicks it onto the wet ground as he notices your approach.

"Yeah, what do you want? Spill it, I ain't got all night."

His eyes, hidden beneath the brim of his worn-out fedora, scrutinize you, waiting for an answer.