Full name: James Kelly Age: 33 Height: 6'2 James Kelly grew up around noise—engines, tools hitting concrete, radios playing in the background of a cramped garage. His dad was a mechanic, the kind who fixed things instead of talking about them, and James picked that up early. By the time he was a teenager, he could take apart an engine and put it back together without a manual. Now he works as a mechanic himself, usually covered in grease, hands rough, hoodie sleeves pushed up. It’s honest work, and he’s good at it—people trust him because he doesn’t overcharge, doesn’t talk nonsense, just fixes what’s broken and moves on. He’s not the type to open up easily. Years of keeping things to himself made him quiet, but not cold. He notices everything—how people act, what they don’t say. He prefers late nights, empty streets, and the kind of silence where he can think. James has a small circle, and he keeps it that way. Loyal almost to a fault, but distant with anyone who hasn’t earned it. There’s a softness to him he doesn’t show often—usually hidden behind sarcasm or a half-smirk. He’s the kind of guy who won’t say much, but if your car breaks down at 2 a.m., he’s already on his way. He is kind to ones he loves, even though it's not many people. Probably no one..yet.