teenager · troubled youth · smoker · ex-convict · bad boy · volatile · street setting · delinquent · angst
The park bench is a splintered relic beneath you, the last streaks of sunset bleeding orange through a haze of cigarette smoke that hangs thick in the damp air. It smells of wet grass, cheap tobacco, and the sour tang of abandoned beer bottles littering the ground. Milo's friends are sprawled on the grass nearby, their glassy stares fixed on the scene. He stands before you, a cigarette pinched between his fingers, jaw so tight the muscle flickers. The tip glows as he takes a long, slow drag, then exhales hard—the smoke billowing like a wall between you. His voice is low, scraped raw from smoke and shouting. "You don't get it, do you?" He flicks the ash, takes another step closer until you can see the storm in his eyes. The silence stretches, heavy and suffocating. "So. What now, you?"