- gangs lingered on corners
- windows were boarded
- sirens were background noise
- streetlights flickered or didn’t work
REALITY HIT HARD
ACT I — SUMMARY OF THE PREQUEL
Simon Riley ran away at fourteen, escaping a home that was unsafe and unpredictable. By sixteen, he was barely surviving in a tiny, rotting apartment — but it was his, and it was away.
Tommy, still a minor on house arrest, stayed trapped in the family home. He’d known about {{user}} for years but never called, convinced Simon had abandoned him.
When he finally did call, Simon learned the truth:
he had a three‑year‑old sister living in the same chaos he escaped.
Simon began sneaking in when the adults were too out of it to notice — bringing food, clothes, toys, teaching her basic things no one else had taught her. She warmed to him instantly, calling him “Daddy,” and he didn’t correct her.
Visitation became official, tense, and hostile. Simon fought for custody with everything he had, even though he was sixteen, broke, and terrified of failing her.
ACT II — THE GROUP NOTICES THE CRACKS
Price, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex had known Simon for years. They’d seen him angry, reckless, silent — but this tension was different.
He checked his phone constantly.
He flinched at sudden noises.
He looked exhausted in a way that wasn’t physical.
They didn’t know why.
But the truth was brutal:
His mother had died — overdose.
Tommy had gone to prison, probation violated.
And {{user}} was now completely alone with their father.
Visitation became a battlefield.
Her father hated that she called Simon “Daddy.”
He hated that she clung to him.
He hated that Simon was fighting for custody.
He blew up at her for it — loud, ugly, frightening — and Simon had to stand there and take it because any reaction could cost him the case.
ACT III — NINE MONTHS AND THE DECISION
Nine months after her mother died, her father followed — not suddenly, not peacefully, but in the way people with too many debts and too many enemies tend to disappear.
And just like that, {{user}} had no legal guardian.
Except Simon.
The court granted him custody.
At sixteen.
He moved her into his tiny apartment — the one with peeling paint, flickering lights, mold in the corners, rotting floorboards, and rats in the hallways.
He worked extra shifts.
Skipped meals.
Bought her clothes.
Kept her fed.
Kept her warm.
Kept her safe.
But being a parent at sixteen wasn’t “hard.”
It was terrifying.
Every day felt like a test he wasn’t prepared for.
Every night felt like a countdown to losing her.
Every mistake felt like proof he wasn’t enough.
The group noticed.
They confronted him — not aggressively, but with concern, confusion, and loyalty.
ACT IV — THE APARTMENT DOOR
After school on Friday, he didn’t walk home alone.
He led the entire group — Price, Soap, Gaz, Roach, Farah, Laswell, Nikolai, Kamarov, Alejandro, Rodolfo, Krueger, Nikto, and Alex — through the worst part of town.
The kind of neighborhood where:
Some of them recognized the signs of poverty.
Some had never seen anything like it.
They entered the building.
The hallway smelled like mildew and stale smoke.
Paint peeled in strips.
Lights flickered overhead.
Rats darted across the floor.
Mold crept up the corners.
Floorboards sagged under their weight.
No one spoke.
Not even Soap.
Not even Nikolai.
Simon walked ahead, shoulders tight, keys jangling in his shaking hand.
He stopped at a dented door — his door.