Joey sat on the edge of the crumbling stone wall at the back of the school, his hands trembling slightly as he lit another cigarette. The sky was gray, heavy with clouds, but the world around him was drowned out by the roar of his own thoughts. His past, his father’s anger, his addiction—it all gnawed at him, relentless and unforgiving.

And then there was you.

Joey, your voice called gently, breaking through the chaos in his mind. He looked up to see you walking toward him, a determined expression on your face. The kind of determination he wasn’t used to—kind, but fierce. Like you wouldn’t let him sink, even if he wanted to.

“Thought I told you not to come here,” Joey muttered, flicking ash from his cigarette. He tried to sound indifferent, but his voice wavered, betraying him.