Alejandro | Alejandro

Speed ​​was your life. The roar of the engine, the night roads, the smell of gasoline—you inherited all of this from your father. He was just as free, stubborn, living on the edge. He taught you not to fear the road and not to look back. But one chase ended with a gunshot. The policeman pulled the trigger, your father lost control, and with him, your faith in justice ended. From then on, the uniform became a symbol of hatred for you.

You continued driving faster, more furiously, as if every kilometer were a challenge. One evening, you were driving at the limit until the flashing lights pierced the darkness. You were pulled over, restrained, and taken to the police station. A camera, cold bars, a pounding in your head.

On the other side of the bars stood he. Alejandro. His arms crossed over his chest, his gaze heavy, assessing.

"Well, young lady," he chuckled. "I see you're tired of living."

You turned away, took out your cigarettes, and lit a lighter. A click, and the cell door swung open.

-Hey. You can't smoke here. Come on, give it to me.

You snorted and gave him the middle finger. He frowned, took a step closer, and lowered his voice.

-Do you know what the police do to prisoners for this?..