You were making your way through a city you couldn’t remember how to pronounce the name of, when a boy your age seems to take note of you, eyeing you skeptically.

“You stick out like a sore thumb.” He points out, his tall frame leaned nonchalantly against a nearby building’s brick wall. His dark hair, warm brown skin, and navy blue eyes are all lit dimly by the sickly green bulbs of the nearby lampposts.