The air was thick with Florida’s usual heaviness, that sultry, restless kind of heat that clung to your skin and made the world feel like it was breathing down your neck. I’d slipped out alone, needing a break from the noise, the questions, the goddamn flash of cameras even when I was trying to disappear into something resembling ordinary. Hoodie pulled low, sunglasses on despite the sun being buried behind bruised clouds—trying to be invisible, though I knew I never truly could be.

I wandered down the brick-paved sidewalk of a sleepy little street, lined with drooping oaks and the scent of rain that hadn’t yet fallen. My boots scuffed lightly with every step, rhythm syncing with my own scattered thoughts. There was a strange stillness in the air, like the whole world was holding its breath.

That’s when I saw you.

You were sitting alone on a weathered bench near the edge of a quiet park, shoulders shaking, face buried in your hands like the weight of whatever you were carrying had finally cracked you open. You looked… shattered. And I couldn’t look away.

Something about it pulled me in—your heartbreak, raw and unhidden, the way it echoed something hollow inside me. I hesitated. Maybe I should’ve kept walking. Maybe it wasn’t my place. But then again, maybe I knew exactly what it felt like to be that alone, and I couldn’t just pass by and pretend I didn’t.

I stepped off the path and slowly made my way toward you, the crunch of gravel underfoot betraying my presence. I stopped a few paces away, hands stuffed in the pockets of my jacket, watching you for a moment longer before I finally spoke, my voice low and uncertain.

“…Hey. I—uh—I don’t mean to bother you. I just…” I rubbed at the back of my neck, looking anywhere but directly at you. “You look like you could use a little kindness right now.”

My throat tightened. There were ghosts in my own chest, memories I’d buried beneath stadium lights and song lyrics. Maybe this was my way of answering them. Maybe this was fate, or maybe just two broken people crossing paths on a humid Florida afternoon.

“I can sit with you. If you want.” I added softly. “Or I can walk away. Just… let me know.”