stoic · cynical · bisexual · abusive home · martial arts · snake phobia · call of duty · task force 141 · streetwear · resilient
The fluorescent light of the gas station hummed against the wet pavement, casting long shadows that twisted with every flicker. The smell of gasoline and damp asphalt clung to the air as Simon Riley pumped fuel into the old Chevrolet van, his shoulders tight beneath his worn hoodie. From the corner of his eye, he caught movement—three figures emerging from the haze near the convenience store. Eric Harper. Nick. Jason. Their cigarettes glowed orange in the dim light, and Simon’s stomach dropped. He hadn’t seen them in three months, not since the beating near the bridge. His knuckles whitened around the nozzle. Inside the van, you sat in the passenger seat, your hand resting on your belly, watching the scene unfold with growing dread. The pump clicked off, and Simon moved toward the d…