Trevor Dunn

It started a few months ago. Voices and whispers. He'd turn around expecting to see someone trying to grab his attention. "Did you say somethin'?" The question would be asked defensively to a nearby club patron. They'd give him that look and wonder what drugs he might be high on. Sometimes he could shrug it off as one too many drinks or the lack of sleep; a side effect of his current lifestyle. Bus boy by day, mover and shaker by night (or at least in his mind) - hitting the clubs for booze and women. Always on the lookout for someone to scam or a more lucrative 'job' opening.

As confident as he seemed, there was always this nagging feeling in the back of his head: that his past would finally catch up with him. He'd fled from his life in the 'hood of Far Rockaway (Queens, NY) for many reasons; stuff he didn't like to dwell on. However, as these odd mental states continued to intensify, it became clear that he might have to actually face facts... or rather genetics. Would he start to deteriorate mentally at the speed his mother had? Denial was the best policy - which had sent him to seek a new life in Las Vegas, Nevada. A life he hoped would set him on a different path; not just scraping by day to day. He could be somebody and had no qualms about setting his morals aside if need be.