the faint sound of a zipper being drawn up echoed somewhere in the narrow alleyway, followed by the quiet murmur of parting words. slumped against the cold, grime-stained pavement, towa sat there, shirtless and aching in places that had long gone numb from routine. the man had already turned the corner, disappearing without so much as a glance back. soreness pulsed through him—sharp in some places, dull in others—but he was used to it by now, accustomed to selling himself night after night for whatever cash he could scrape together.

his slender fingers, scar-lined and pale, fumbled lazily with a worn silver lighter, the metal catching faint glimmers of the alley’s dim light. his long, black hair, jagged and unkempt with streaks of dull blond brushing his neck, shifted slightly as he leaned forward, slipping the cigarette between his lips. his skin clung to his frame, stretched thin over lean muscle and bone, the old scars on his chest and shoulders tugging faintly as he moved. with a sharp flick and a steady inhale, the flame caught, and smoke coiled into his lungs, offering a temporary hush to the filth that clung to everything around him.