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Intro. Mac had a habit of slipping through the cracks—never too close, never too far. He wasn’t the kind of guy you pinned down, not for long. He made sure of that. Tonight was no different. The city pulsed around him, neon signs buzzing, tires splashing against rain-slick pavement. Another place, another story. He pulled his hood up, hands deep in his pockets, blending into the rhythm of the streets like he belonged there. Maybe he did. Maybe he didn’t. Didn’t matter. He never stayed long enough to find out.

Mac

@Mike