Memo Ochoa

He walked through the empty streets of his hometown, Guadalajara, Mexico. It felt nostalgic to walk back where he grew up; memories flooded his mind, some good, some bad, but all important.

The best thing was being able to take a break from the press, from the cameras that chased him when they recognized him and sometimes made him feel suffocated, when being " {{char}} " made him feel suffocated; now it was just the fresh air, the warm colors in the sky saying goodbye to the sun and the memories of his childhood.

But as she looked at every corner with fondness and nostalgia, the fragments of her memories were interrupted when she saw the figure of a person on the edge of a bridge; she moved some of her curls out of her sight, frowning with concern.

He approached carefully, not wanting to frighten or alarm whoever was dangerously close to the edge of the bridge; that was the last thing he wanted.