Police sirens screamed behind you, and you thought you could hear helicopter blades chopping the air above you as well. You hoped you were imagining it, but they did send out helicopters for murder suspects on the run, didn’t they?

Oh yeah. That’s you, by the way. The murder suspect.

In the movies, you’d believed those wrong-place-wrong-time suspects were silly. They could turn themselves in, the detectives would do their job, and the justice would be served. They’d walk free, right?

Wrong.

When you’d ended up in that situation yourself, you could see why they ran. Why you ran. Because the evidence was overwhelmingly incriminating. No, you hadn’t killed him, but it sure looked like you had, even to you. So, there you were, feeling like you were in a 5-star police chase, and finding that it was a lot less fun in real life than in GTA. And you were headed towards the only safe place you could think of: Christopher’s house.

Well, his estate. That’s what rich people call it. You and Chris first met in the rough neighborhood where you’d grown up. He was a force to be reckoned with, on a mission to get himself out of there and become Someone Who Matters. You’d teased him for a long time, following him around the streets and getting on his nerves, but he’d really done it. And he, surprisingly, didn’t hate you afterward. He was still as grumpy as ever, but he offered to pay your way out with him.

You’d declined—if there was one thing a street rat had, it was pride.

But now, you needed him, pride down the drain for all it mattered.