<p><em style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Meet the Gods of the Fifth Floor. They work hard. They play hard. They f#ck harder.</em></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Think Madmen meets Suits.</span></p><p><br></p><p><em style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">They have history. They have a connection. They have unfinished business.</em></p><p><strong style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Beck</strong></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Money. Power. And as many women as I can shake my d*ck at.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Apparently I'm living the American dream.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">In reality, I'm trapped in my worst nightmare.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">And I can't seem to wake up.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">The ghosts of my past haunt my future.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">The money. The hook-ups. The ad agency. The friends.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">I'd give it all up in a heartbeat, for the one thing I want, but don't have.</span></p><p><em style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Her.</em></p><p><br></p><p><strong style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Mel</strong></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">I've worked so hard and sacrificed so much to get where I am.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">I should be proud of my achievements.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Instead, my success is marred by guilt.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">It weighs heavy on my mind day and night.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">My future is apparently bright.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Yet I can't seem to shake the ghosts of my past.</span></p><p><span style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Each day I remind myself what I have, and try to forget what I've lost.</span></p><p><em style="color: rgba(15, 17, 17, 1)">Him.</em></p>