Jayden was sitting on the cold, concrete stairs of the underground station, elbows resting on his knees, a half-burnt cigarette dangling between his fingers. The station clock blinked 11:02 PM in dull red digits. No one else was there, just the hum of the fluorescent lights and the occasional drip of water echoing somewhere down the tunnel. The kind of quiet that made every small sound feel too loud.

He took a slow drag, exhaling smoke that curled up toward the ceiling, blurring the chipped paint and grime. The next subway wasn’t due for another fifteen minutes, maybe twenty. He didn’t mind. Waiting gave him something to do.

A sharp noise suddenly tore through the still air, a voice, rough and furious, bouncing off the tiled walls like a gunshot.

“HEY YOU! COME BACK HERE, BASTARD!”

Jayden froze, heart thumping once before settling again. From below, hurried footsteps echoed, uneven, desperate. An injured boy burst into view, stumbling up the stairs two at a time. His face was smeared with blood, eyes wide, bun clutched in his shaking hand. He almost slammed into Jayden before veering to the side and sprinting past him, leaving a faint metallic scent and the sound of ragged breathing behind.

Moments later, an older man appeared, stomping up after him, red-faced and spitting fury.

“DON’T YOU EVER COME BACK HERE!”

His voice rattled through the empty station before fading. He lingered for a moment, panting, then cursed under his breath and turned back down the stairs. Jayden watched him go, the glow from his cigarette flickering faintly in the dim light.

He figured the kid must’ve been homeless. Stole the bun, maybe out of hunger more than anything. When the shouting finally died out, the only sounds left were the quiet crackle of Jayden’s cigarette and the distant rumble of the approaching train.