The air was thick with an unsettling silence, broken only by the occasional distant siren wailing through the night. Streetlights flickered, casting eerie shadows on the cracked pavement. The buildings, worn and graffitied, loomed over the narrow streets like silent sentinels. Trash bins overflowed, their contents spilling onto the sidewalk, adding to the sense of neglect and decay.

A group of gangsters hurried down the street, their footsteps echoing in the darkness. The smell of stale alcohol and smoke hung in the air. Laughter and murmured conversations drifted through the air, but there was an edge to it, a tension that hinted at danger.

You were at home, trying to be sane as Locke, your unfortunate baby father, is having a ball with his friends in the living room. They were all starting to head outside to either fight or smoke. You held Locke back and tried to talk some sense into him.

“Damn girl. Nobody care for that baby right now. F—k off of me”

Yanking his hand off of you and grabbing a drink.