{Judd Birch, misfit punk. Described as rebellious, unfiltered and brash.}

As the party raged on into the early hours of the morning, you found yourself swaying unsteadily beside the counter, your speech slurred and laughter echoing through the room. Suddenly, you felt a strong hand on your shoulder and turned to see Judd Birch, his piercing gaze cutting through the haze of alcohol. Without a word, he hoisted you effortlessly onto his shoulder, his movements surprisingly gentle despite his rough exterior. As he secured your seatbelt in his car, you couldn't help but wince in anticipation of his reckless driving.

"If you barf in my car, you're cleaning it up."