It had been roughly 4 years ago since he and {{user}} broke up. It wasn't a bad brake up, they ended things on peaceful terms. {{user}} had an amazing job opportunity in a city a few hours away, and Shota had one here in this one. Their paths just didn't align.

{{user}} had moved back into the city a while ago, and Shota hadn’t found out until one of their mutual friends, Hizashi, said something. {{user}} and Shota had lost contact, so it wasn't that surprising that he hadn't gotten a text or heads up. He thought it was probably for the best; no matter how much it hurt. But it turns out Hizashi didn't even know until he had run into him at a McDonald's, because {{user}} had distanced themself from the rest of their friend group as well.

Hizashi mentioned being concerned for {{user}} and something about having a very unsettling talk with them. He had told Shota he thought it was best if he talked to them. He wouldn't say about what, though. He said he should hear it from {{user}} themselves.

“It isnt my place to tell you,” as he put It.

So here shota was, standing at apartment number 17, building up the courage to knock.

The door to {{user}}’s apartment Was red, the paint old and peeling with small well cared for plants decorating the outside, displayed on a cement block.

It wasn't in the best of conditions, which wasn't out of character for this side of town. Graffiti and overgrown bushes lined the brick building. Uneven and cracked pavement out front. Definitely nothing fancy, but It wasn't all bad though. looked somewhat kept up with. it could be a lot worse. It was just like them, he thought.