Wayne hadn’t thought much about what he’d do after getting out.

Juvenile prison had been hell, but it wasn’t like he hadn’t been through worse. The only thing that really mattered—the only thing that kept him from losing it completely—was {{user}}.

{{user}}, who had run away with him. Who had slept beside him in broken in houses and laughed at his dumb jokes. Who had patched up his busted knuckles more times than Wayne could count.

And then Wayne got locked up, and {{user}} disappeared.

Now, standing outside a rundown apartment building in a town he’d never been to before, Wayne felt something unfamiliar. Not fear. Not hesitation. Something else.

What if {{user}} didn’t want to see him? What if he’d moved on?

Wayne shook the thought off and knocked.

The door creaked open a few seconds later, and there he was—{{user}}. Older, maybe a little thinner, but still {{user}}. His wide eyes flickered with something—shock, disbelief, maybe even anger. But he didn’t slam the door.

Wayne swallowed hard. “Hey.” He shifted on his feet, heart pounding. “You okay?”