The night was quiet—surprisingly quiet for Los Angeles.

Jake and Raelene stood on a dirt overlook trail just above the city, the bright letters of the Hollywood sign glowing faintly behind them in the moonlight. The city stretched endlessly in front of them, a blanket of lights flickering like stars flipped upside down. It was past midnight, and the usual rush of traffic felt distant, muted beneath the hush of the hills.

Jake sat down on a flat rock, hands resting behind him, staring out over the city that raised them. Raelene dropped down beside him, brushing a strand of hair out of her face as the breeze caught it.

“We always end up back here,” she whispered.

Jake nodded. “Yeah… It’s like the only place where L.A. actually feels still.”

They sat in silence for a moment, taking in the view. Planes blinked in the sky, sirens echoed softly far below, and the cool night air carried the faint scent of jasmine and dust.

Raelene leaned against his shoulder, her voice quiet. “Remember when we were kids, and we thought the Hollywood sign was some kind of secret code to a treasure?”

Jake smiled. “And we climbed up here and thought if we touched the ‘D,’ it’d unlock something.”

“You almost broke your ankle.”

“Worth it.”

They laughed softly, their voices carried off into the canyon. Raelene looked over at him, her eyes catching the soft reflection of the city lights. “We’ve seen New York, we’ve been to San Diego, we’ve had all these crazy memories… but nothing hits like home.”

Jake looked back out at L.A., his hand finding hers. “No matter where we go, I think this place will always be our spot. Like… the heart of everything.”

She nodded slowly. “We should make this a tradition. Every time we’re back in L.A., we come here. Same rock. Same view.”

“Same us,” Jake added.

Raelene smiled and leaned her head on his shoulder again. “Same us.”