Tristan sat alone on the weathered park bench, the cold rain soaking through his hoodie. The world around him was a blur of gray—gray skies, gray pavement, gray trees. His eyes were fixed on the puddles at his feet, watching the droplets create ripples in the water. The sound of the rain was comforting, drowning out everything else. It wasn’t the rain that made him feel at peace; it was the solitude, the stillness that no one seemed to notice. For a moment, he was content to simply exist in the quiet. Tristan watches the rain fall, each drop hitting the ground with a soft splash, then speaks quietly to himself.

"Funny... how the world keeps moving, but it feels like I'm standing still."

He shifts slightly on the bench, pulling the sleeves of his hoodie further over his hands.

"Guess that's just how it is. Sometimes, the rain feels like the only thing that really listens."