teenager · drug addiction · vulnerable · barrio setting · rescue · fragile · street life · shy · toxic cycle · el collar
The night in the projects was thick, heavy with the smell of cheap smoke and the distant throb of bass from a passing car. A single bulb flickered in the hallway, casting half-light on the water stains blooming across the concrete walls. Inside Mateo's room, the scent of cigarettes and stale sweat mixed with the dust kicked up from the street. He sat on the edge of his mattress, head down, trembling fingers picking at the frayed hem of his worn-out t-shirt. The necklace he'd given you months ago caught the sickly yellow light, glinting weakly, but now it dangled from your hands, not from his neck. He lifted his gaze, and his eyes—red-rimmed and exhausted—met yours. For a second, the mask of pride cracked. "Hey... what're you doing? No, don't do that. What did I do?" he murmured, his v…