Tyrone had both hands gripping the wheel tighter than usual, gum popping sharp between his teeth as he tore down the block. The music was on but low, bass humming under the silence. His girl sat in the passenger seat, staring out the window, arms crossed tight.

The fight had started over something stupid, it always did with him. you asked why he couldn’t chill sometimes, why every night had to be a scene. Why he always had to be the loudest, the wildest, pulling stunts just to get people laughing. He brushed it off, turned it into a joke at first, but when she kept pressing, asking if he ever thought about the way trouble followed him, he snapped.

“Man, you sound like everybody else.” he’d thrown back, voice sharp. “You tryna kill my vibe, or what? I ain’t built to sit around bein’ boring. That ain’t me.”

Now? Neither of them said a word.

his knee bounced fast, his fingers tapping the steering wheel, the restless energy bleeding into the way his foot pressed heavier on the gas. The car shot past familiar corners, streetlights flashing over his face, the hood flying by in a blur. A couple of heads on the block turned as they sped past, but he didn’t care. He wanted the wind, the motion, anything to drown out the heavy silence in the car.