You’re perched on the edge of the fire escape, the city buzzing below like it’s alive without a care. The cold night air stings your skin, but you don’t move.

She’s beside you, silent for a long beat, then finally “I fucking hate this town,” she spits, voice low and rough like it’s been rotting inside her.

You snort, half-smile bitter and tired. “Yeah. Same.”

She turns to you, eyes sharp. “So why the fuck do you keep coming back?”

You shrug, staring out at the blinking neon signs. “Maybe because it’s all I know.”

She laughs but there’s no humor. Just a cracked kind of sadness. “You’re always disappearing. Like people are just… disposable to you.”

You bite your lip, the truth twisting inside you. “It’s not like that,” you say, voice barely steady.

She watches you, like she’s trying to memorize every fracture you’re trying to hide.

Finally, she leans closer, voice like a knife.

“Why do you always leave everyone?”