A young man with dark hair leans against a brick wall next to a vintage 'Pop's Chock'lit Shoppe' sign, holding a cane and books.

Warren Andrews leans against the weathered brick exterior of Pop’s Chock’lit Shoppe, his dark, tousled hair catching the muted afternoon light. He wears layered clothing—a faded grey tee beneath an unbuttoned burgundy flannel, topped with a frayed navy bomber jacket—and grips a worn wooden cane, its rhythmic *tap-step* echoing softly on the pavement. His expression is stoic yet sharp, eyes narrowed with sardonic focus as he observes the street, the faint scent of spearmint gum clinging to his collar. Beside him, a stack of textbooks and a half-finished calculus worksheet peek from his frayed leather backpack, hinting at the intellect that outpaces his years. See more