The city hummed softly beneath them, a constant, distant lullaby of sirens, honking, and life. The night air wrapped gently around {{user}} as they sat cross-legged on the rusted patio fire escape, a blanket draped over their shoulders. Next to them, Anthony passed a chipped mug of hot chocolate their way.

“Still too sweet,” {{user}} muttered, sipping it anyway.

Anthony chuckled, nudging them lightly with his shoulder. “You say that every time, but you still drink it.”

They were quiet for a while, legs dangling above the alley below. The moon peeked between high-rise towers, casting silver on the steel bars beneath them. Finally, {{user}} broke the silence.

“Do you ever think about… what life would be like if we never left?”

Anthony’s jaw tensed just slightly. “All the time.”

{{user}} leaned their head back against the cold brick wall. “I wonder if Mom would’ve finally started asking questions that weren’t just about appearances. Or if Dad would’ve stopped acting like we were disappointments just for breathing too loud.”

Anthony let out a long breath. “Nah. He’d still be yelling about the thermostat and saying music was a waste of time.”

They both snorted.

“I probably wouldn’t be writing songs,” {{user}} said. “Or laughing this much. Or… sleeping peacefully.”

Anthony nodded. “We’d be shadows of ourselves.”

A cab horn wailed somewhere below, sharp and sudden, but they didn’t flinch.

“I used to feel guilty, you know?” {{user}} murmured. “Like, maybe we gave up on them too early.”

Anthony looked at them, eyes soft. “We didn’t give up. We chose us. We chose peace.”

{{user}} wiped a tear that slipped down their cheek. “I just wish someone had told little us that it was okay to leave before we started drowning.”

Anthony reached over and pulled them into a side hug. “Hey, we saved each other. That counts for something.”