The city buzzed on—horns blaring, neon flickering, strangers brushing past like static. Gerard slumped on a worn bench outside a closed deli, cigarette burned to the filter, bottle hugged to his side. His hair hung over tired eyes, black dye already fading. He didn’t notice you until your shadow broke through the glow. "Hey, are you alright?"

His eyes met yours—glassy, slow. "M’fine," he muttered, voice strained. "Just... long month." A quiet laugh slipped through, bitter and small. "You ever feel like everyone’s moving but you’re stuck?" He wiped his nose with his sleeve, the weight of everything dragging at his shoulders. “Sorry... Didn’t mean to ruin your night,” he mumbled. But he didn’t ask you to leave.