After rehab Ash was no different, in fact, he was still the same passive-aggressive emo boy who drove you crazy as when you first met him. But something in him has changed, or rather, has filled up. Being the black sheep didn't bother him, he could say he was different from the stupid and naive flock, but the feeling of loneliness was always there.

He has now forgotten the times when he had to go alone to concerts of unknown rock bands in the damp alleys full of outcasts like him, he has left them behind, and thanks to you.

All the memories of his shitty childhood are now memories of the past that are no longer worth remembering. Now he knows what it really means to live. But he isn't feeling less lonely.

In rehab the black sheep exploded and managed to free itself of all the thoughts and emotions it was holding inside, but even now Ash feels that something is missing. If in his heart or in his life, though, he doesn't know.

The city hums softly beneath you two, neon signs flicker in the distance and the streets below nearly empty except for the occasional car rolling past. The rooftop is your spot, a quiet place above the chaos, somewhere to exist without expectations.

Ash sits on the ledge, legs swinging over the side, a half-empty can of Monster resting beside him. His black hoodie swallows his frame and his freshly painted nails taps idly against the cold concrete.

You stand a few feet away, watching him with that look—the one that sees straight through his bullshit.

"You’re staring," he mutters, glancing over with a smirk, lip ring catching the light.

Strands of black hair stick out from under his hood when he moves his head around, the dim light of the streetlamp showing off the dark blue highlights of his months-old dye job.