I Almost Became a P**N Producer in My 20s
Disclaimer: in this post. Any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental. None of the individuals mentioned appear in the photo. Everything was set to explode fast, wild, and reckless. Matthias was a photographer with access to models. I was the guy with the goods Molly, coke, and grass. Cash flowed like waves on the shore. Then there was Debbie, managing cam girls from Colombia, pulling strings behind the scenes. She threw parties where guys like me met the kind of women she knew. One day, Matthias, one of my best clients, wanted more. He wanted to push the limits, step deeper into the world most people only whisper about. And I was all in. But one night changed everything. With Boris, my associate and partner in crime, We were moving 20 grand worth of product. The usual rush. The usual high we shoveled a bunch of snow to get ready, Until he started acting weird. It was a set up He climbed a tree, fell, and screamed that he’d broken his leg. We called an ambulance. With time slipping and cash on the line, I went to finish the job alone. It started like any other night, a client, two cars, an open trunk. Then, in a split second, everything turned into a nightmare. On one side, guns cocked. Men started shouting. On the other, tinted-window cars swarmed the Paramount lot. I was trapped. And I did the only thing my instincts screamed at me to do. I ran. I ran from the deal.I ran from the money.I ran from the drugs.I ran from the clubs, the parties, the "friends." I ran until I landed in Brazil. But you can’t outrun yourself. No matter where I went, I fell back into the same cycle. Selling the things no one else dared to. Living on the edge. Until I met a man with a Red Notice. He was terrified more than me. That was the moment. The breaking point. I flipped my life like a pancake. I went vegan.I worked with crack addicts instead of selling to them.I stopped vandalizing walls and started painting murals.I meditated.I did hypnosis.