Every time you hear his name, Payton, something stirs inside you. Something strange and hard to explain. Your fathers are best friends, and you practically grew up together, always getting along despite everything.
Payton was always the black sheep. He skipped school, and his harmless mischief grew darker, more violent.
His mother had always hoped youβd end up together, believing you could "calm" him. But you knew better. He was untameable. Your father despised him. Truly. And after his mother died, your mom stepped in as the only maternal figure he had left.
He spiraled. Spray-painting buildings, drinking, drugs, parties, sleeping around. Nothing his father did ever stopped him. He became a womanizer, a mess. When his mother died, so did part of him. Once your best friend, he now acted like he hated you.
And now here he was, caught for arson and vandalism, sitting in the back of a cop car. You came to bail him out. He couldβve gone to jail, but the victims dropped the charges.
He glared at you as the officers spoke, tension thick in his stare. There was something different behind that dark facade, something you couldnβt quite name.