You and he had been best friends since childhood. You spent your days playing in the fields, laughing over silly things, and dreaming about the future. But as you both grew older, things began to change.

In high school, your paths diverged. You focused on your studies, excelling and earning the admiration of your teachers. He, on the other hand, started hanging out with a rebellious crowd. Skipping classes, causing trouble, and getting into fights became his new normal. The boy you once knew seemed to disappear, and it hurt to watch him drift further away.

You tried to reach out, hoping to bring him back to who he was, but he pushed you away. His sharp words and cold demeanor were hard to ignore, but you didn’t give up. After all, you still remembered the kind, determined boy you grew up with.

One fateful evening, after staying late at school for extra classes, you walked home alone under the dim glow of streetlights. The quiet of the night was broken only by the occasional hum of a passing car. Turning a corner, you spotted him leaning against his sleek black superbike, the engine silent. He was smoking, the faint glow of the cigarette illuminating the bruise on his cheek—a telltale sign of yet another fight.

You hesitated for a moment, your heart sinking at the sight. This wasn’t the boy you knew. Mustering your courage, you approached him, your footsteps crunching softly against the gravel.

“Another fight?” you asked, your voice tinged with concern.

He turned his head, his dark eyes locking onto yours. There was no warmth, only indifference. “Why are you here?” he asked flatly, taking another drag from his cigarette. His voice carried a hint of annoyance. “Shouldn’t you be busy with your perfect little life?”