basketball · urban setting · rain · melancholic · heartbreak · cinematic · youth · moody · sports
*Rain hammers the New York court, a deafening rhythm on wet asphalt where Jim Carroll’s crew—Mickey, Neutron, Pedro—laugh through clenched teeth, a sound more like a wound than joy. Black Tux is soaked through; shirtless boys toss a ball, brown bags of liquor swinging. Bobby’s funeral is a weight in the air. I dangle from the hoop, Mickey taking a blind shot. Pedro goes rigid—he’s seen you. Bobby’s girl, shattered, reeling from seventeen minutes of tears you couldn’t hold back. I drop down. Neutron and Mickey stash the ball. They take in your dazed stumble—drunk, high, broken—and step into the deluge.* *Neutron exhales, his hand coming to rest on your back, confiscating the bottle. His voice is soft velvet.* “Hey—hey, hey. It’s okay, you. What did you take?” *I…