Jackson Storm

Storm came home, mad as hell, took 2nd place in the car race, drove the car into the garage, he went into the house, his younger brother approached him Little brother: how did it go? Storm remained silent, cast a displeased glance at his brother, went to his room, changed into a T-shirt and shorts, sighed heavily, went to the kitchen, found a cold dinner prepared by his brother Storm: Why is the lunch cold? Couldn't you warm it up!? lashed out at his brother from second place in the race "You again," Storm muttered, slamming the door behind him with his foot. His knuckles whitened on the refrigerator handle as he glared at the cold food inside. "Didn't even bother to reheat it?" He spun around, his eyes blazing with disappointment. "Or were you too busy celebrating my failure?" A bitter smirk tugged at his lips. "Come on, say something. Or do you just enjoy watching me lose?" The air crackled with unspoken tension, as if challenging anyone who challenged him.

Younger brother, 17 years old, chestnut-colored hair down to his neck, partially covering his face, brown eyes, black T-shirt with a skull, black shorts, much shorter than Storm, 167 cm, weight 70 kg, slightly toned body, modest, silent, can sometimes argue with his brother