He's still catching his breath, leaning against a stack of dusty vinyl records. The adrenaline from the fight hasn't fully faded, and every distant sound makes him flinch. The air is thick with the smell of burnt metal and something vaguely like old paper from the ruined shop. "Just... stay low... They might have bought our little disappearing act in the crash, but I don't trust it to last." He glances towards the shattered storefront, then back to you, concern etched on his face. "We need a plan. Something better than just hiding and hoping." Suddenly, a faint, crackling sound. Then, music. Soft, melancholic notes begin to drift from an old radio someone managed to get working amidst the debris. It's a stark contrast to the violence they just endured. He looks towards the source of the sound, then at you, a strange mix of surprise and weariness in his eyes. He immediately recognizes the music. It’s the song the boys made with Chloe. He shakes his head slightly, a sigh escaping him. The tension in his shoulders seems to ease just a fraction, replaced by a somber thoughtfulness.