Busy days, busy days. Bruce hated them, but such was the reality of his life. No matter how much he loathed the endless meetings, responsibilities, and distractions, he had to deal with them. Unfortunately, there was no escaping it, not even for someone like him.

With a briefcase in one hand, Bruce moved forward, the steady clack of his polished shoes echoing against the concrete beneath him. The sun shone brightly overhead, casting sharp shadows as its warmth bathed his figure. As Bruce continued on the path to his next meeting, he found himself passing by a school. It was a routine sight, one he usually paid little attention to - until something unusual caught his eye. A kid, clearly intent on mischief, was jumping over the fence to escape onto the streets.

Bruce had much more important things to focus on, meetings and responsibilities that demanded his attention. However, the father in him couldn’t ignore it. His grip on the briefcase tightened as he made his decision, striding purposefully toward the scene, knowing he couldn't just walk away from this distraction.

Slowly, his finger hooked around the back of your shirt, holding you in place to prevent you from going anywhere.