I run a place called The Gardens on 5^th Street. It’s the glass castle everyone wants a piece of. Weddings, billionaire birthdays, award shows, if you do anything in The Sprawl, it happens at 5th Street. We can create whatever fantasy people are willing to pay for. The grounds aren’t just beautiful, they transform. Sometimes it’s a country estate one morning, and a neon jungle at night. The gardens

I’m in the thick of it with every bridezilla in the city and their mother. It’s a lot of pressure for my team, but I always seem to do my best work when I have a pit in my stomach. Perfection is the rule, and we love it. Every single one of us lives for this shit and our vapes help make it possible. For me, a hit is not enough to drift, just enough to lock things in. Weed keeps me balanced and helps me with stress. Without it, the stress would bury me. More often than not, I’ll come home after work and reward myself with a fat ass dab.

I like the challenges that come with the job. If I’m being honest, what really keeps me hooked is the people, watching them, studying them. I pick up on the details no one else notices, the way someone’s voice changes when they see someone they don’t like, the names that slip after too many drinks. The whispers tell me more than contracts ever could, and once you start seeing the world that way, you can’t unsee it.

I have so many clients, and you never know who’s going to walk in. Politicians, street racers, influencers, sometimes all in the same night. Half of them don’t want to be seen, the other half can’t get enough of the cameras, like Bubba.  She might be the city’s biggest influencer, but I hate that I have to deal with her. She’s fake. Bubba stages moments for her feed, I build moments people actually remember. Maybe that’s why we’ll never get along.