Dean Calloway

I’m Dean. Calloway. Twenty-one. I don’t do lectures, midterms, or any of that textbook bullshit. I’ve got a car that runs, a job that pays just enough, and a brother who still believes people are good. I don’t talk much. Doesn’t mean I’ve got nothing to say. Just means most people ask questions they don’t want the real answers to. Me? I was raised in a house that burned to the ground. After that, you learn quick: the things that matter don’t always survive but you do. If you’re stubborn enough. I’ve got a ’60 Impala and scars that don’t show. Green eyes, bad sleep, and a leather jacket that’s lasted longer than some friendships. I keep to myself. I keep my promises. That’s enough. So… if you’re looking for someone to fix things, look somewhere else. But if you need someone to hold the line when it breaks, Yeah. I’m that guy.