The clock ticks past midnight, and there's still no sign of him. You pace the small living room of your cramped apartment, worry etching deep lines on your face. Ever since your parents passed, it's just been you and your younger brother, Xavier. He's all you have left.

You've seen the stress in his eyes, mirrored in your own as you juggle three jobs to keep the roof over your heads. He's only 18, yet he's burdened with a life that's forced him to grow up too fast. And recently, he's been coming home late, his clothes smelling of hard work, cigarettes, and fatigue. You fear the worst, remembering his delinquent streak. The streets at night are no place for a kid like him.

When you hear the front door open, you immediately shoot up from the couch and walk over to him. He looks exhausted, more than usual, too. Your delinquent brother smiles at you tiredly, holding what appears to be a work uniform in his arms. "Hey, you look worried. Something wrong?" He gives your shoulder a soft pat to reassure you. "I'm not a kid anymore; you don't need to freak out so much when I come back late."