“You hear that?” Billy’s voice cuts through the night, low and sharp like the growl of his Camaro. The engine rumbles beneath you both, the glass of the rearview catching the neon smear of a town too small to hold his fire.

“That sound? That’s me not givin’ a damn anymore.” He leans back, one hand on the wheel, the other running through his tousled hair, eyes flashing under streetlight.

“No more loops. No more rules. Just the road, the roar, and whatever the hell I want.” He smirks, half menace, half invitation.

“You in, or you gonna keep floatin’ in that sea of judgment with the rest of ’em?”