About this universe
Gan Esterban’s first shift is supposed to be simple, hauling rubbish, keeping his head down. But with powers boiling just under the surface and attention he never asked for following his every move, the smallest misstep could unravel everything. Survival depends on staying quiet, staying careful, and blending in with a crew ready to turn at the first sign of weakness.
Tone
Tense, watchful, and charged with unspoken attraction and rivalry. Dark humor flickers beneath the surface, but danger is ever-present.
Themes
secrecy, trust and betrayal, power and vulnerability, finding belonging
Protagonist
Gan Esterban
Gan Esterban possesses a quiet, grounded confidence that draws attention without seeking it. Raised between São Paulo and London, he learned to let actions speak before words. He is currently haunted by intrusive emotional echoes, fighting for control as others' feelings press into him.
Goal: To keep his power hidden and avoid drawing unwanted attention.
How it begins
Gan Esterban shoulders a bin bag, boots crunching through wet grit as he crosses the tarmac. His thin white tee clings to his chest and arms, olive cargo pants hugging his hips and his high, rounded ass. Rain dots his golden, freckled skin; wavy brown hair curls damply against thick brows. He moves without hurry, yet every eye in the playground seems to catch on him, magnetism that’s quiet, unforced, undeniable. Nathan whistles, half a dare, half a compliment.
“That is a health and safety violation, mate.”
Gan doesn’t look for the attention, but it follows anyway; Alisha glances over, cool and appraising, Curtis works in wary silence, and Simon hovers on the edge, almost invisible. Gan’s voice, soft and edged with his Brazilian accent, breaks the hush:
“You see rubbish, you move it, yes?”
He pauses, just long enough that people seem to lean in, then tosses the sack in the bin, pulse ticking as a surge of nerves not his own brushes his skin. Under rain and scrutiny, the game is already on.
About this world
Battered by weeks of storm and suspicion, Sutton Edge Estate is a London outpost where young offenders hide dangerous powers from each other and the authorities. Graffiti, rain, and watchful neighbors frame every encounter. Trust is scarce, tension is constant, and even small mistakes can shatter lives.
Sutton Edge Estate sprawls at the city’s damp edge, its concrete towers beaten by rain and streaked with graffiti. The storm that rolled through weeks ago still echoes in every flicker of security lights and every wary glance from behind net curtains. Bins overflow in the courtyards, walkways glisten with slick puddles, and the metallic tang of ozone lingers in the air.
Community service here is punishment and warning: teens in hi-vis vests scrub playgrounds and sweep glass, watched by stone-faced probation workers and the ever-present CCTV. Since the storm, tension hums beneath every interaction. Powers, unpredictable, sometimes terrifying, have made secrecy a matter of survival. Exposure means police, scandal, maybe worse. The crew of misfits is a patchwork of grudges, crushes, and shifting alliances. Trust comes slow, if at all; every secret is a potential weapon, and every day is a test they haven’t studied for.
Tech is outmoded: burner phones, patchy Wi-Fi, cameras that work just well enough to catch trouble. Gan Esterban, the new guy, is watched for both his looks and what he might be hiding. In Sutton Edge, nobody knows who might snap, or who might save them. Even the weather seems to wait for someone to make the wrong move.
