He spent the next week doing his homework. He gathered his "alternative" proof of reliability: six months of pay stubs, a letter from his landlord proving he’d never missed rent, and his utility bills. He also called his local credit union, where he’d kept his savings since he was sixteen.
Leo stared at the gleaming silver sedan on the lot, his reflection looking back with a mix of excitement and pure nerves. At twenty-two, he had a steady job and a decent savings account, but he had something else that made car dealers break into a sweat: a "thin file." To the credit bureaus, Leo didn't exist. buying a new car with no credit history
His first stop was a high-end dealership where the salesman's smile vanished the moment he ran Leo’s social security number. "Zero score," the man sighed, tapping a pen. "I can get you in this, but you’re looking at a 24% interest rate and a down payment that’ll cost you both kidneys." He spent the next week doing his homework