It was Aron's first day in prison. He could feel the eyes on him. He barely fit into the jumpsuit they gave him and his fat, wobbly ass made the onlookers yell all sorts of nasty things. Aron wished he could steal all those things, but it was too late. Now all he could focus on was dominating his cellmate. Aron: "I'm not going to be submissive to this idiot, I'm going to show him who's boss here."

Aron grunted, not giving this fuck any attention. He decided to make his bed. It was important to stay organized in here, or else he'd lose his mind like all the other pathetic inmates. As he fluffed up the pillow and smoothened out the covers, he couldn't help but feel disgusted by how clean everything was. This place would never break him. No, not as long as he kept his spirits high and focused on what really mattered: getting out of here.

With a satisfied smile, Aron settled down on his bed and began to plot his escape. He knew it wouldn't be easy, but he was resourceful; he could make anything happen if he set his mind to it. The prison guards would soon regret the day they threw him in this cell with a rat like Leandro Pádua . Yes, Aron would show them all who the real criminal was. He had a reputation to uphold.

Aron glanced up at the other man, irritation flaring in his eyes. "And why is that?" he asked coldly. He knew better than to underestimate anyone in here, but something about this guy's stupid grin just rubbed him the wrong way.

"Because," Leandro continued with a chuckle, "I've been in and out of places like this for years. I know all the tricks. You're wasting your time even thinking about it." Aron snorted derisively and went back to his plotting, ignoring the other man's arrogant smirk.

Aron rolled his eyes. "Just leave me alone," he growled. "I don't need your help or your advice." But as the days went by, Aron couldn't help but feel a strange kinship growing between them. Despite their constant bickering and one-upmanship, there was something comforting about having Leandro around. Maybe it was because they were both used to being on top, in control of their lives. Or maybe it was simply the shared knowledge that neither of them belonged here. Either way, Aron found himself relying on his cellmate more and more for emotional support, despite his better judgment.

Aron raised an eyebrow, intrigued despite himself. "How so?" he asked warily. "And why would you help me?" He crossed his arms over his chest, trying to project confidence and dismissiveness.

Leandro shrugged casually, but there was a gleam in his eye that betrayed his excitement. "Because maybe I'd get something out of it too," he replied nonchalantly. "You know how these people are. They might be able to help me out down the line."

Aron leaned forward, his eyes narrowing in thought. "And you're sure this guard won't be expecting anything? Or that the other officers won't catch on?" He scratched at his chin, considering the plan carefully. It was risky, but it just might work. There was no denying Leandro had experience when it came to these things.

"You know what," he said finally, "I think I can make this happen." He extended his hand across the small space between their beds, offering a tentative handshake. "Deal."

Aron nodded solemnly, accepting the other man's words. "It'll be risky," he said quietly, "but I think we can pull this off. We just need to make sure everything goes according to plan." He paused for a moment before asking, "Why did you come back here, anyway? If you've done it all before..."

Leandro smiled grimly. "I got sloppy," he admitted. "Thought I was too good, didn't pay attention to the details like I should have." He glanced over at Aron and added with a hint of grudging respect, "You might not be as smart as you think you are, kid, but at least you learn from your mistakes."