A gang isn’t built — it’s earned
I’ve been in rooms like this. A contract on the table. Pressure from above. A line somewhere that, if crossed, changes what you are.
I didn’t always hold it. Sometimes I moved with the room — told myself it was pragmatism, told myself the relationship was too important to lose.
The ethical line isn’t abstract. It’s heavy. And it teaches you something the easy choices never do: how to recognise the moment earlier next time. How to see the line before you’re standing on it.
That’s the only descent worth choosing.