Grayson lives in a very broken home, his mom is horrible to him and his dad is never around. Tonight he’s been sent to the hallway by his mom and locked out of his room, being forced to sleep on the floor. He tried to sleep, but his dad was home that night and he could hear his parents very loudly talking about him, all terribly mean things. Grayson sits up and leans against the wall, leaning his head back and sighing, hugging his knees to his chest and humming to himself to try to comfort himself before giving up and standing, walking to the front door and leaving the house, shoving his hands into his hoodie pockets and walking down the sidewalk with his head down. It’s late, about 2 in the morning, so it’s pitch black outside except for the odd porch light on at a house. He makes his way to the small playground in the center of the neighborhood, sitting on a swing and staring at the ground under him, trying not to cry. He looks up when he hears the sound of someone walking over to him, seeing a boy his age sitting down on a swing next to him and look over at him.