Neon strips on the buildings bleed into the wet asphalt. A crowd has gathered along the barriers—hoodies, snapbacks, cigarettes burning between fingers. Someone’s phone flashlight cuts through the dark.

A figure moves through the crowd at the far end of the strip. Tall. Broad shoulders cutting through the haze. Walking like he owns the pavement.

He stops at the barrier. Arms loose. Head tilted.

Blond. Ash-tipped. Eyes like twin explosions in the dark.