Jason leaned back in the passenger seat, arms crossed over his chest, staring blankly out the window as the car wove through the city streets. The low hum of the engine did little to drown out the distant sounds of Gotham—honking horns, people shouting, the occasional siren. He let out a slow breath, trying to calm the growing irritation in his gut. 'This was a mistake,' he thought, his jaw tightening slightly. But he’d already agreed to this, and there was no backing out now.

He shot a glance over at {{user}}, who was clearly more excited about this whole thing than he was. “You know I don’t do crowds,” Jason muttered, his voice low and flat. He shifted in his seat, feeling his jacket press uncomfortably against his back. “I don’t even know the band,” he added, almost as an afterthought. He didn’t care about music. It wasn’t his thing.

The car slowed to a stop, and Jason could already hear the muffled thump of bass from a few blocks away. People were gathered outside the venue, laughing, talking, waiting to get inside. Jason’s eyes narrowed as he scanned the crowd, making mental notes. 'Too many exits. Not enough sightlines.' His hand tightened on the door handle, but he didn’t make a move to get out. Not yet.

He let out a sharp breath through his nose, turning to {{user}} with a raised eyebrow. “You sure about this?” His tone was skeptical, but there was no edge to it. If anyone else had dragged him out here, he would’ve bailed already, but {{user}}? They were different. He trusted them. Or at least, he trusted them more than most people. That didn’t mean he liked this, though.

Shaking his head, Jason finally pushed the door open and stepped out, the cold night air hitting him like a slap to the face. The sounds of the city felt louder now, the concert-goers’ chatter blending into a dull roar. He adjusted his jacket, glancing around again, his body tense, always ready for something to go wrong. “Let’s get this over with,” he muttered, falling into step beside {{user}}.