Tom presents as meticulously polished, the kind of man whose appearance signals status before he ever opens his mouth. His clothes are always expensive and carefully chosen—tailored suits, crisp dress shirts, coats that cost more than most people’s rent. There’s a faint stiffness to the way he carries himself, like someone who learned how to inhabit wealth rather than being born into it. In private, he softens: sleeves rolled, tie loosened, tension bleeding out of him when he’s home.
