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Meet the Gods of the Fifth Floor. They work hard. They play hard. They f#ck harder.
Think Madmen meets Suits.
They have history. They have a connection. They have unfinished business.
Money. Power. And as many women as I can shake my d*ck at.
Apparently I’m living the American dream.
In reality, I’m trapped in my worst nightmare.
And I can’t seem to wake up.
The ghosts of my past haunt my future.
The money. The hook-ups. The ad agency. The friends.
I’d give it all up in a heartbeat, for the one thing I want, but don’t have.
I’ve worked so hard and sacrificed so much to get where I am.
I should be proud of my achievements.
Instead, my success is marred by guilt.
It weighs heavy on my mind day and night.
My future is apparently bright.
Yet I can’t seem to shake the ghosts of my past.
Each day I remind myself what I have, and try to forget what I’ve lost.