Nick lingered on the sidewalk, staring at the brownstone like it might spit him out a better idea. The building was worse than he’d imagined—an old, crumbling relic of a place, tucked between two slightly newer buildings that didn’t seem much better. It looked like the kind of place that hadn’t seen renovations since the 90s, the brick walls stained and the windows darkened with years of grime.

He shoved his hands deeper into his pockets, feeling the weight of his phone pressing against his leg. I could just leave. He could text his mom and tell her no one was home. Problem solved. This is enough, right? He had no idea if Riel was even in there. Maybe he wasn’t. It wasn’t like Riel was his responsibility, and Nick had so many better things to be doing right now. He had just gotten to New York City, after all.

But then, that familiar voice—his mom’s voice—poked at the back of his mind. “Just check on him, Nick. It won’t take long.”

Yeah, right. Nick sighed, rolling his eyes at his own thoughts, before stepping up to the door and pressing the buzzer for Riel’s apartment. The speaker crackled weakly, letting out a faint burst of static, but no response came through.

Nick stood there for a moment, foot tapping against the cracked sidewalk. Great. The street around him was quiet, the late afternoon sun casting shadows against the pavement, and there was a chill in the air that felt like a warning: You’re wasting your time. He jammed the buzzer again, pressing harder, as if that would somehow make a difference.

Still nothing.

He exhaled, stepping back from the door. Maybe that’s good enough. He could walk away now, send a quick text, and be done with this whole thing. I’ve done more than enough. After all, Riel wasn’t a kid—he was nineteen, just like Nick. If he didn’t want to answer the door, that was his business.

Nick shook his head. Why does Mom care so much? He could barely remember Riel from the few times they’d crossed paths when they were younger. From what little his mom had told him, Riel had been through some kind of rough patch with his family. Something about a breakdown. Complicated. But complicated wasn’t Nick’s problem.

Just as Nick turned to leave, an old woman appeared on the sidewalk, pushing a broom lazily across the concrete. She wore a faded blue housecoat and slippers, the kind of outfit someone who’d been living in the same place for decades would wear—like she’d become part of the building's foundation.

Her eyes narrowed slightly as she noticed Nick standing by the door, sizing him up with that skeptical look older people gave when they decided you didn’t belong. Great.

“You looking for someone?” she asked, her voice raspy like she’d been chain-smoking for the last thirty years.

Nick hesitated, his instinct telling him to just shrug and keep walking. I should just leave. But if she knew something about Riel, maybe it would make this whole thing easier. He sighed inwardly, then answered, “Yeah, trying to check on someone. Riel Montague? Second floor.”

The old woman’s expression softened slightly, though not by much. She leaned on her broom, thinking for a moment. “Oh, him. Haven’t seen him much lately. Keeps to himself mostly. Doesn’t talk much. Odd boy.”

Nick raised an eyebrow, already feeling the faintest prick of curiosity. “Odd how?”

The woman shrugged, her broom shifting lazily in her hands. “He’s quiet. Too quiet sometimes. Neighbors don’t like it. They’re always talking about him. But he’s harmless, I guess.”

Nick didn’t know how to respond to that, so he just nodded, glancing back up at the building. Harmless. Right. That wasn’t exactly comforting. “So... is he here?” he asked.

The woman resumed her slow sweeping, offering only a shrug. “Might be. He comes and goes. If he doesn’t want to be found, you won’t find him.”

Nick felt the familiar frustration building again. Why am I still here? His mom had asked for a wellness check, not for him to dig into whatever was going on with this guy. He wasn’t a social worker. This is a waste of time.

Just as he was about to thank the woman and walk away, she added, “There was a bit of trouble with him a few weeks back. Nothing big. Just... odd behavior. Cops came by, but they didn’t do much. Told him to stay inside. Folks don’t like it when things get weird around here.”

Nick paused, his frown deepening. “Weird how?”

The woman gave him a long, deliberate look, as if weighing how much she should tell him. Finally, she spoke. “Just... standing outside late at night. Talking to himself. But harmless.”

Talking to himself? Nick blinked. Great. Exactly what he didn’t need to get involved in. What kind of problems did this guy have? He was about to ask more, but the woman waved her broom, signaling that she was done with the conversation.

“Right,” Nick muttered. “Thanks for the info.”

The woman nodded before turning back to her sweeping. Nick glanced one last time at the brownstone, feeling more frustrated than before. This wasn’t his problem. He’d buzzed, no one answered, and now he could walk away. That’s all his mom needed to know.

As Nick walked away, the city’s noise seemed to grow louder, the distant rumble of traffic and the occasional horn blaring somewhere down the street. He shoved his hands into his pockets, trying to shake off the uneasy feeling that had settled in his chest. Why did this bother him? He didn’t even know Riel, and from the sound of things, the guy had way bigger problems than Nick could deal with.

His phone buzzed in his pocket again, and he already knew who it was. He pulled it out, staring down at the screen.

Mom: Any luck checking on Riel?

Nick tapped out a quick response.

Nick: Yeah, I stopped by. No answer.

He had stopped by. If Riel didn’t want to answer the door, that wasn’t Nick’s problem.

As he continued down the street, heading back toward his dorm, he tried to push the whole thing out of his mind. This wasn’t what he came to New York for. He had more important things to focus on—college, his new life, being on his own for the first time. Riel could take care of himself.

Still, as the brownstone faded into the distance behind him, Nick couldn’t quite shake the feeling that something about this whole thing didn’t sit right.