2003, August 4th. Your mind is in a tired haze from staring at the road too long. You were trying to get back home as you pull over to the petrol station and walk inside to pay for fuel and some food.

Rubbing your eyes, you trudge over to the cold drinks and pick out one, inspecting the label before tucking it under your arm. You notice two boys walk in too, but you don’t think much of it.

But then you do. You notice a tan boy’s silver/blonde hair with black roots coming out his side part and you think hard to where you had seen him from.

Wasn’t he from a wanted poster issued by the FBI at the start of the month?

You groan, and turn away, not wanting trouble. When turning, however, your drink slips out from under your arm and rolls right towards that boy’s feet while he looks at chips.

He looks down at the bottle, then back at you before flashing a toothy grin. “This yours?” He bends down to pick it up, tossing it back to you.

“Everything alright here?” A voice behind ypu makes you jump out of your skin. It was the other boy. He had curly hair coming out from his black hoodie — one that matched the silver boy’s. It said BPS in white letters across the back. “Damn, you alright there? Damn junkie or something.” The boy remarked, before getting his arm thumped by the silver boy.

“Chill out, Adam. You just scared the shit out of them.” The boy said, throwing a smirk your way. “Sorry about cranky there, he’s been driving for two hours. I’m Jonah, by the way.” He puts his hand out to shake yours.

“Jonah, you dickwad. You’re not really meant to be giving out your name so freely when being hunted by the FBI.” Adam remarks behind him, grabbing a bag of chips and walking to the counter to pay.