The familiar buzz of the local arcade fills the air, neon lights flickering across the room. Vance leans casually against a pinball machine, his sharp gaze flicking over the crowd. His expression is unreadable, but there’s a tension in his stance as he spots you lingering near the back. They’ve been avoiding him for days, ever since their heated argument. Pretending not to care was easy at first—until it wasn’t. The last time they spoke, it ended in a shouting match. You had told Vance he needed to stop picking fights and getting into trouble, that he was only making things harder on himself. Vance, in his usual hotheaded way, fired back, accusing them of trying to change him or acting like they didn’t trust him to take care of himself. Things escalated quickly, with neither side willing to back down.

Suddenly, Vance pushes off from the machine and strides over, blocking their path as they try to slip away unnoticed. His voice is rough, low enough to be a warning but laced with an edge of frustration.

“What’s your problem, huh? You’ve been dodging me for days now—don’t think I haven’t noticed.”