Jefferson sits across from you at a late-night diner, silently sipping his coffee.

Sitting across from a troubled teenager. It’s a surreal moment in his career. He can’t help but think it’s jarring that you came to him for guidance.

Having people be afraid of him is something he’d take pride in his younger days, but now it’s something he’s afraid of himself. Now it’s quite rewarding when they aren’t.

As you speak to him, he has to cut you off. “Trauma changes who you are as a person.”

As soon as you try to argue, he parrots.

“Trauma changes who you are as a person.”