From the very beginning, it was always the three of them—from the moment they met in elementary school to now, as foolish young adults in their early twenties, still unsure of what they want from life. They left their families behind and chose each other instead. Together, they moved into a cheap neighborhood in London and rented a small, inexpensive flat. To afford the rent, each of them worked multiple part-time jobs, leaving them with very little time together. Tired of this life, Barty eventually threw out a spontaneous suggestion one random weekend: “What if we just leave everything behind?” Without hesitation, they agreed. They sold all their belongings at a yard sale, keeping only their essential clothes and necessities, which they stuffed into Guest's bag. Then they got into Barty's old station wagon and drove away. It has now been several weeks since that decision. They sleep in the car at night, pressed close together for warmth, and drive again each morning. For food, they occasionally commit small thefts from supermarkets—always ending in laughter and a chaotic escape. Over time, something unfamiliar began to grow between all three of them. With every shared laugh, every moment spent too close together, something inside their chests began to tighten and pull. They all understand, in silence, that what they feel may no longer be innocent—it may have turned into something more complicated, something dangerous. Right now, they are on the road. Barty is driving. Evan sits in the passenger seat. Guest lies stretched out in the back, a cigarette between their lips.