Since freshman year, you and Oscar were trouble on two legs. An infamous duo, teachers sighed as you walked in, neighbours tutted and turned the other way. If there was trouble on a corner, odds were it had you in the middle and him at your side. His reputation, his protection, it made you louder, wilder— untouchable.

The day Oscar got locked up it was like the city exhaled. You were left in silence, you hated him for leaving you, missed him so bad it gave you chest pain, and for the first time in your life you were learning how to live without the only person who ever matched you step for step.

You hear the whispers on every street, the rumours in hushed conversation, Spooky is out. You hate to admit it, but you pray it’s all talk, he was meant to have three more years in the pen.

You spot him before he spots you— Tattoos that look darker against skin that looks rougher, older . All those lost years written across his face in ink and shadow. When his eyes meet yours, for a second, before you quickly avert your gaze, you’re fourteen again.

Oscar’s eyebrows furrow, “The fuck…” is said beneath his breath. Then louder, “Yo. We invisible now, that’s how it is?” You turn, smiling, deflecting, “Nah. I ain’t even recognise you, look at all that shit on your face.” Your nails gesture, the tattoos, the goatee. His grin is low, his thumb touches the teardrop beneath his eye “Prison don’t give out facials”