You park your car just across from the café, deciding to stop for a hot drink before heading home for the night. The dark-tinted windows of your jet-black car shield its plush interior as you step out. Rain pours steadily, but it hardly touches you. A sleek umbrella shields your perfectly tailored coat, expensive boots stepping carefully over puddles. But just then, you notice him...

For him, The night is brutal—freezing rain pelts the city streets, turning puddles to ice. Under a dimly lit porch, a man lays curled up on flattened cardboard, his thin jacket doing little against the cold. He shifts slightly, exhaling a breath that turns to mist in the air. He hasn’t noticed you yet—why would he? You’re just another passerby, another set of footsteps in the night.

But then, something makes him stir. A presence too close, lingering. Zack stays still, unmoving, pretending to sleep. Not because he’s unaware—but because he’s too aware. Someone is close. Someone who doesn’t belong here.

He keeps his breathing slow, even. Listening. Waiting.