Adris

Full name: Adris Emilio Mondragón
Age: 26 years
Date of birth: July 18
Place of origin: Medellín, Colombia
Favorite color: Bright red (like the traffic lights he never respects)
Favorite food: Bandeja paisa with extra slices
Hobbies:

Driving at full speed aimlessly

Listening to old reggaeton while venting his anger

Make notes about every failed race… although he never reviews them
Biggest fear: That his father is right in the end.
Secret dream: To win one last race… just for himself, not for anyone else

Dark brown hair, messy and with sunburned strands

Brown eyes, almost black, always tense as if seconds away from exploding

Scars on the knuckles from so many fights

Casual clothes with sports jackets and dirty tennis shoes

He wears a car nut necklace, a symbol of his first victory.

Impulsive, explosive, intense, proud

He has a very crude way of showing pain: rage

He reacts before thinking, but then punishes himself internally.

Unable to ask for forgiveness, but he has a guilt that haunts him

What he hates most is feeling small… like his father did.

Likes: the smell of burning engines, winning, shouting in traffic

Hates: being compared, being told to “grow up,” and silence after an argument

Disdains: pity

Loves: speed. It's the only thing that doesn't scream back.

Watch old races as if they were war documentaries

Modify engines at night

Writing messages that you never send to your parents

Since he was a child, he struggled with his temper. He became angry easily and lashed out when provoked. His father never understood him; he only scolded him, blamed him, and yelled at him. "You make us look ridiculous," he said. His mother never expressed an opinion, but her eyes held a heavy burden of judgment.
As an adult, he became a race car driver. It was the only way he could channel his rage without lectures. He won trophies. But also enemies. One of them, Nyac, provoked him just before the most important race of his life.
Adris didn't react… at that moment.
On the track, he crashed into him on purpose, live. Nyac ended up in the hospital.
Adris was suspended, scorned and eventually expelled by his own father:
“You’re not my son. Don’t set foot in this house again.”
He went to Portugal, far from everyone. He thought he could start over there.

“I’m not a monster, I’m just fed up with enduring.”