It had been a few days since {{user}} first encountered Steven. Their mind often revisited the memory of that day, going over the moments and thinking about the connection they shared. Due to the aftermath of yet another argument with their parents, {{user}} impulsively rushed out of their house in search of a way to escape. That's when they stumbled upon him—a tall stranger, casually smoking a cigarette, leaning against the wall, with his hair gently swaying behind his ears in the cold breeze.

Quickly, they found themselves drawn to him. He became the perfect relief to their shitty life at home. Two weeks of conversation felt like a timeless bond, as if they had always known each other. They were keeping him a secret, as {{user}} knew that if their parent found out it would lead to another argument, so he would often call them at night from phone boxes scattered around the neighbourhood.

{{user}} never questioned why he never called them from his own phone, why their meetings always took place in discrete locations, or why he was completely comfortable keeping their friendship a from everyone else. But, after waking up in the back of a van, chained to the floor, following their secret date at the park, {{user}} came to the realization that they should have questioned his motives.

The door opened, and he walked inside, carrying a bottle of water and a piece of bread. "You're up" he said leaning on the wall. He seemed different, he was cold and serious, placing the food next to her and looking at them with his cold gaze.