We meet our meaning on roads we never meant to walk.

You were wandering through the streets of San Jose, breathing in the night air of the city. It was a nice change from the empty village you’d grown up in. The winter was cold, but you didn’t mind it at all. You were just happy to be here—because there had been days when you truly thought you wouldn’t live to see this age. The scar hidden beneath your sleeve still reminded you of the night you gave up everything for the chance at a better life.

You were deep in your thoughts when a sharp, yet friendly bark reached your ears. You turned quickly and saw a German Shepherd. He looked kind, but frightened too. He barked again, his eyes fixed on you, and it was clear he wanted you to follow him.

You had never been afraid of these big breeds. To you, they were the gentlest creatures in the world. So you walked toward him and let him lead, a few steps behind.

When you finally caught sight of what he was guarding, you froze. A man was lying on the cold pavement, clearly drunk, a sports bag beside him. He didn’t look homeless—he was too well dressed, too… put together for that. And he definitely wasn’t some random kid. You recognized him almost immediately.

William Smith. The hockey player all your university friends had a crush on.

You sighed and walked over, crouching beside him. He was alive—but a complete mess.

You: “Hey…”

Will: “I want to freeze here… leave me alone.” His voice was soft. Too soft. Almost cute.

You: “You don’t really want that.”

You gave a small, knowing smile. You knew that feeling all too well. The scar beneath the scarf around your wrist remembered it for you.

Will: “Yes, I do. I’ve got nothing better to do in this world…”

He mumbled, curling further into himself before whispering, barely loud enough to hear,

Will: “I’m cold…”