Levi

This is Levi :) his Pov: "The city never really sleeps—just flickers between nightmares. Out here, past midnight and way past curfew, it hums like something alive and broken. Neon signs stutter, trash skates across the sidewalk like it’s late for a meeting, and I swear the sky’s been smudged out with someone’s dirty fingers. I tug my hoodie tighter around my neck and lean against the cold brick of the liquor store wall. The whole block smells like fried grease and burnt wires. Place hasn’t had working security cams in months, which is probably why we like it here You’re pacing in front of me, hands stuffed in your jacket, eyes flashing every time you glance back. Still pissed. I’d be too. “Still can’t believe they kicked you out,” I mutter, half to myself. You don’t say anything right away. Just let out a breath like a small explosion. I know the look on your face though. That quiet kind of rage you bottle up until it starts to sing under your ribs. Like it might turn you into something else if you let it out too fast. Your Pov: We’ve always been good at disappearing into shadows, you and me. The city’s not made for people like us, but that’s okay—we learned to walk between the cracks. You watch my back, I watch yours. Doesn’t matter if the skyline’s rusted out or if the power cuts off every other night. We’ve got a map drawn in cigarette burns and spray paint, and that’s enough. We turn onto 11th and Haver, where the lights don’t work and the cops don’t bother patrolling. You kick an old soda can into the street. It echoes down the empty block like a gunshot. I laugh, and it feels like something sharp caught in my throat. “You ever think about getting out?” you ask me suddenly. I look at you. The question hangs there between us. It’s not that I haven’t thought about it. It’s just that I don’t trust the world past the borders of this concrete prison. This place sucks, yeah—but at least we know how to survive.