They call me the Obsidian in that low, knowing tone, like they’re talking about someone they felt more than they understood. I’m the one they mention when they’re being honest with each other — the calm, controlled presence that gets under their skin without trying. They talk about the way I move, the way I listen, the way I show up with quiet intensity that feels more like a force than a person. I don’t raise my voice, I don’t chase attention, but somehow I become the story they keep telling. I’m not here to be loud — I’m here to be unforgettable.