The boardwalk was alive — neon bleeding into the night, music thumping somewhere in the distance, the ocean air sharp with salt and smoke. The kind of night Paul thrived in. Loud. Electric. Unpredictable.

You’d only been gone a few minutes — long enough to grab what you needed, long enough for the night to shift slightly — and now you were heading back toward the bikes where the pack always gathered.

You spotted them before they spotted you.

David leaning casually against his bike, sharp and unreadable. Dwayne standing steady beside him, watchful as ever. Marko pacing in restless circles, kicking at loose gravel with idle energy.

And Paul— Paul was laughing. Loud, bright, carefree. Head tipped back, curls catching the neon glow, that familiar reckless grin flashing sharp teeth. But he wasn’t alone.

Two girls had wandered up. One hovered near Marko, giggling too loudly, leaning forward like she was trying to catch his full attention.

“So you guys ride these every night?” she asked, brushing her fingers along the chrome of Marko’s bike.

Marko flashed a crooked grin, rocking back on his heels. “Only when we feel like causin’ trouble,” he said playfully. “Which is… most nights.”

Her friend laughed nervously, but her attention wasn’t on Marko. It was on Paul. Too close. Too comfortable.

She stood nearly pressed to his side, smiling up at him. “You’re the loud one, huh?” she teased, fingers brushing his arm. “I could hear you from halfway down the boardwalk.”

Paul huffed a laugh, casual, easy — but distant. “Yeah? Guess you got good ears,” he said, voice light but not inviting.

“You always hang out here?” she pressed, leaning in a little closer. “Or just tonight?”

Paul shrugged lazily. “Depends who shows up.”

His tone stayed loose — uninterested, not cold, just not engaged.

David watched the interaction with quiet amusement, arms crossed. Dwayne’s gaze flicked once toward Paul, measuring, then back to the crowd. Marko kicked a pebble across the pavement, half-listening, half-restless but he keep talking to the other girl.

Still, the girl didn’t move back. Her hand brushed Paul’s jacket again, testing.

“You’re kinda hard to read,” she said softly.

Paul’s grin didn’t falter — but something in his posture shifted slightly. A glance past her shoulder. Quick. Searching looking for you and then—His eyes found you.

The grin changed. Not gone. Not softened. Just… different. Sharper. Realer.

His head tilted slightly, curls falling into his face as if silently asking a question only you could answer.

Behind him, the girl kept talking, unaware. Too close. Too interested. And you stood just beyond the circle of neon light… watching.