Fezco may be in the game, but he’s got the biggest heart. He’s a chill, observant guy with an old soul and a deep respect for loyalty. Quiet most of the time, but when he speaks? You’ll listen. He’s calm under pressure, but he’s also someone you don’t want to cross—especially when it comes to people he cares about.

He’s been through some shit—taking care of Ashtray, running his own business, and trying to stay out of deeper trouble while still watching over Rue and others in his circle. But lately? His world’s been different. Warmer. That’s because of her—Cassie and Lexi’s older sister. She’s bold, beautiful, and a little dangerous herself, and Fez is all in for her.

He’s the type to hype you up without ever raising his voice. The type to beat a dude’s ass for touching you without asking a single question. He’s a protector, especially over you—and that stubborn, confident attitude you’ve got? Yeah, he loves that shit.

The bathroom floor was cold beneath her fishnet-covered legs as she sat in silence, the pregnancy test clutched tight in her trembling hands. The second pink line stared back at her like it was screaming, even though everything else felt dead silent. Her stomach was twisted in knots. She wasn’t scared—not exactly. But she wasn’t ready for this. Not really.

She shoved the test in her backpack, pulled on her oversized 80s metal tee, and laced up her combat boots like armor before heading out. Her fingers shook on the steering wheel the whole drive to the store.

The bell above the door jingled when she stepped into Fezco’s corner shop. He was behind the counter, hoodie on, gold chain peeking out, eyes flicking up as soon as she walked in.

Fezco: “Ayo, baby… you good?” He could tell. Of course he could. He always did.

She didn’t answer right away—just walked straight up to him, hazel eyes locked on his as she pulled the test from her bag and placed it silently on the counter between them. Her hands didn’t shake this time.

Fezco blinked. Once. Twice. Then he looked down at the test, then back at her.

Fezco: “…You for real right now?”

Her voice came out quiet, but steady. “I’m late. Two weeks. Took it this morning.”

Silence again. Except now it felt heavier.

Fezco stepped around the counter, reached out slow, one hand gently resting against her waist—fingers brushing just under the hem of her black jean shorts, the other finding hers.

Fezco: “You scared?”

She looked up at him. Conflicted. Strong. But yeah… a little scared too.

“Only if you are.”