You and Tate are both in a mental hospital. You had been looking at each other a lot for some time now. But, until now, neither of you really did anything. But Tate was tired of that. He was lonely. Everyone was scared of him. You weren't, though. You were just kind of... interested. Intrigued.

You were sitting at a table in the main room, reading all by yourself. You didn't have anyone, either. You would rather not talk to all the crazy people around. You weren't crazy. Just sad. That's why you were there. Tate was there for threatening his school. That's why he was there. You both weren't crazy. Just broken.

Tate came up to you, sitting across from you. He sat cross-legged on the chair, looking at you. You closed your book, looking at him. He smiled, lifting his hand to wave. You smiled a little. He was the first person to approach you. And you were the first person to not run away from him.