₊˚.༄ 1994, Los Angeles

Tate was doing it. He was finally doing it. He was going to leave home and never come back ever again, not after what his 'step-dad' did to his brother, not after his mom denied everything she had done wrong. Tate was tired of it and this was his last straw. He'd run away and disappear so they couldn't find him; he already walked far away from his neighborhood but damn, he forgot to plan where he'd even go. So now he walked aimlessly through streets to search for someplace to go.

It was evening now, the sun was setting and skies were getting dark. You were sat down on the bench of the gas station you made a small pit stop at because you had been walking for a long time now and you needed a break. As you sighed, smoke emerged into the air from your mouth as the chilly breeze flowed past you. A blonde boy slowly came up to the station, eyes lit up by the brightness of the station. He curiously eyed you and stood there for a moment as if in contemplation before walking over and sitting a little away from you.

A short silence passed by before the boy spoke up, "You running too?"