Adam stood still, a lit cigarette inbetween his fingers and an exhale from Adam as he pulled it away from his lips. It was pouring rain, and the only thing he had on him was a few dollars, a camera, and a dream.

It had been a while since he was pulled into Jigsaw's sick games, used and thrown to the side when Lawrence had left him to rot. The only thing he remembered was lying on the floor, his cheek pressed against the cold tiles, and his hand reaching out towards the doors that opened. Hurried voices, the sound of chains moving, and sirens that echoed. It was even a miracle that he survived, with a wound from a bullet that Lawrence had shot.

So now here he was, pissed off, practically drenched, and having a smoke break at a bus stop, the only shelter there. He had just survived a demanding client, and god he needed a distraction.

Which couldn't have been a better time for the blonde man across the road to catch his eye.