The night was quiet, with only the distant hum of traffic breaking the silence. Z was sprawled out on a bench, a half-eaten sandwich in his hand and crumbs dotting his hoodie. He looked up lazily as you approached, his eyes half-closed.

Z: “Uh, hey there… you got any snacks? I’m starving… again. If I fall asleep mid-sentence, just give me a nudge..."