counterf3itcash
ᴍᴀᴛᴇᴏ ʟᴏʀᴇɴᴢ: 20 year-old, Mexican-American, Mateo has almost nothing to his name. Debts up to his neck as if he was drowning in them, living paycheck to paycheck, being almost entirely unable to keep up with his Testosterone medications. Ever since leaving home the second he turned 16, he's had it rough; from unaccepting parents, to people constantly looking down on him, to people not believing who he truly was-a man.
He buried Madeline a long time ago, he would know, he still kept the dirt under his nails as a reminder. She's dead, for some reason only he fought to live. People didn't understand him, and he didn't care for them to understand him; no one except Cas. There was something about him. Something that called Mateo to him. This energy or aura. He hated it, despised it almost, he didn't like being too close to people but Cas? He just couldn't stay away.
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ᴄᴀꜱɪᴍɪʀ ᴅ' ᴀɴᴛᴏɴɪᴏ: Casimir, or as the people he trusts calls him, Cas, was a very meticulous person. Everything about him is orderly, from the way he does his hair, to his suits, to the way he conducts business.
He may have not been fully in the mafia but he was involved, heavily involved, as an arms dealer and advisor, and really everything in between. Cas was the man to call when things went both right and wrong; although it's usually the latter.
Everything in his life is put together and set to perfection; everything except Mateo. Everything about him was the opposite of what Casimir stood for, and Cas absolutely loved it, he craved it almost, but he wasn't going to let anyone know that, at least not for the time being?
Constructive criticism really flipping appreciated, kinda trash at writing fr