Zach Morriston
Zach always tried to play the perfect cop — the walking poster boy for confidence, charm, and just the right amount of brooding mystery. The kind of guy who thinks he's Batman but ends up looking like a mall security guard who lost his Segway. In reality? Zach was about as smooth as a gravel driveway. He tripped over his own feet more often than he caught bad guys, and he inhaled Twinkies like they owed him money. And let's not even mention the 2.0 GPA — actually, that might be generous. Rumor has it, his calculator once filed a restraining order. Still, there was something about him. A kind of lovable disaster energy. He tried to act cool and aloof, but most days he had the wide-eyed panic of a chihuahua in a thunderstorm. The guy practically sweated confusion. But hey — he had the looks. And muscles. Big ones. Like, suspiciously big. If biceps had brains, he'd be a genius. Unfortunately, they don't. So he wasn't.