Prologue: Sticky Situation 

Warning: Gun Violence 

The city was stunning at night. Stars swept through the aimless, dark grey sky like pin pricks in a black cloth from a thin needle. The city of Nerora, a landscape crowded with people and tall buildings that fade into the sky at their highest point, was known for the excellent view of the stars at night. It was typical to find people sat up on their apartment rooftops, leaning back with a beer in one hand and a cigarette in the other. From there, they would lay back and enjoy the view all night long with no true sense of time. 

This is what Philo, a troubled city-man with no idea for his future, was doing this night. He clutched his cigarette in two fingers, drawing in deep breaths and would occasionally, lift his other to take a swig from his beer. This beer would cause him a great problem tonight, since he had swiped it from the gas station around the block.  

Usually, he could get away if he ran fast enough but tonight was different. The gas station owner had gotten smarter. Instead of running immediately after Philo, giving him a fair shot at losing him in the confusing city streets, he stalked him slowly instead.  

Unsuspecting now, Philo took another drag of the cigarette, completely unaware to the fact that its smoky scent was giving away his location. A sharp thud was heard from the other side of the rooftop, and it had Philo twisting around, glancing over his shoulder in confusion. How had anyone followed him up here? 

There was a rusted ladder leaning on the side of the building, but nobody was dumb enough to trust it to hold. To get up there, Philo would jam his feet in the crumbling brick foundation and haul himself upward. He was a skinny man, and he could pull his weight.  

Startled, Philo shot up to his feet and dropped the cigarette. He crushed it beneath his black leathery boot and took another pointed swig of the beer. Finishing it up, he drew his arm back and chucked it at the head that poked bravely over the side of the building. The gas station owner had reached the top of the ladder, and he did not look happy with Philo.  

“I’ve got you now, son!” The man hollers, and a light drizzle of rain begins in the worst of times. The beer can had horribly missed its target, and the only way to escape this problem now was to leap for the dim streets below. Philo had done so before in desperation, but it often came with injury, something he was not looking forward to.  

“I can pay you back, I promise!” Philo lies through his teeth, backing up for the edge of the roof.  

“You say that every time.” The man snarls, reaching for his side and pulling out a pistol. He holds it, hand shaking, up and lines it up with Philo’s chest.  

“Woah, woah. No need for that.” Philo raises his hands, palms facing the man. His foot reaches the edge of the roof, and he nearly stumbles right off it. Philo could tell the man had not used a gun in this way before, but he was not so sure he wouldn’t pull the trigger.  

“Is this really what you want to do?” Philo challenges, his heartbeat shaking his whole body. He had come face to face with a gun before, but it was always a jarring experience. He liked the thrill of organic fights, ones with just his fists and no fancy weaponry. This all seemed a little unfair to him. “I mean, really, could you think about this for a second?” 

“I have thought about doing this ever since you stole from me the first time!” The man sneers, breath hot and fogging out of his mouth. “I won’t let you get away, and if I have to shoot you to make sure that happens, well then, that’s what I will do.”  

Philo nods, his legs trembling with fear. He has nowhere else to go but off the side of the building, and the gas station owner has made it about ten feet in front of him now. Any shot made by the gun he held would have him dead, or nearly dead.  

Philo needed to think fast, as the man’s finger was shaking on the trigger. Any movement could set him off, which in turn, would set the gun off.  

Philo would not call himself smart nor a quick thinker. He dropped out of college after a year because he was not doing so good. Whether that was from his insistent partying or lack of going to class when he should have, he wasn’t sure. He figured he could be smart if he tried, but like a lot of things in his life, he did not care to.  

However, right now, he needed to smarten up. He needed to try. 

“Who’s that?” Philo blurts, lifting his hand and jutting out his finger behind them. The man lets out a little breath and turns his head over his shoulder. It is not long before he figures out that there is nobody there, but it is long enough for Philo to jump backward.  

“You’re not going to fool me--” The man grumbles, turning back to nothing, just the edge of the building and the glowing skies of stars.  

Philo lands on the grey brick of the road, letting out a stream of curses as he does so. The whole left side of his body is scraped up bad, but he figures nothing was broken. Luck was on his side tonight, so he figured he should make a run for it while it was. 

The city was easy for him; he knew it like the hairs on his own head. He knew how to evade someone chasing him, but it was proving to be a little harder when that person chasing him had a gun in their hand. Shooting wildly and disrupting the late-night city goers, the gas station owner chased this young man through the streets.  

Philo was no saint, but he deemed it in the moment that he surely did not deserve this. Dodging a street cart, the gas station owner was about fifty feet behind him and missing every shot he took. Philo was a small target, and he was a fast runner. He had to be, with the things he got himself into.  

Pulling out his flip phone, Philo shoved it to his ear with haste after dialing the only number he knew by heart. 

“Eero? Eero!” He called into it, flinching hard when a shot rang beside him, hitting the side of a car parked next to a curb.  

“What’s up, P?” Eero says back, voice teasing and playful. 

“Not the time! I’m in a real sticky situation.” 

A shot fires, and Philo’s ears ring.  

“Was that a gun?” Eero sounds worried now over the line, and Philo winces as his ears and head pound with pain.  

“Yes, dude! Where are you?”  

“I’m on the intersection of Second and Third.” Eero tells him. “I got my girl with me.” 

“Are you in your car?” Philo winces as another bullet ricochets off a metal manhole cover a few feet to his left. 

“Yeah, yeah. You’ll have to sit in the back. Hope that’s fine.” 

“Sure, whatever.” Philo grunts, and the gas station owner is slowing down his pursuit. He’s probably a few hundred feet behind him, and he seems to have run out of bullets. 

This does not stop Philo, however, and he keeps sprinting down the streets. All the way, about a mile and a half, down to the intersection of Second and Third. 

⋅•⋅⊰∙∘☽ ☆ ☾∘∙⊱⋅•⋅ 

Eero had the car pulled up beside an old theater, and Philo hurriedly opened the back car door. It was silent when he sat down, out of breath and sweating, wet with rain. Both Eero and the girl he was with turn to inspect him.  

“What the hell, man?” Eero lets out a laugh. “Am I taking you to Sara’s?”  

“Sure.” Philo pants out, and the girl gives him a dirty look. 

“Right.” Eero starts driving. “This is Rachel, by the way.”  

“Nice to meet you--” 

“I don’t like your friends, Eero.” Rachel complains, leaning back in the chair and facing forward. “All they do is cause you trouble.”  

“Aww, come on. Philo’s great. You have to get to know him. This is like, the world’s worst first impression, ever.” Eero defends Philo, who sinks further into his seat.  

The three fall silent after that, and the rest of the ride remains that way.  

Eero was a good friend of Philo’s. He was a short, stocky man, built well and muscular. He had graduated college a year ago, and since then he started working at an office building. He had lost a lot of his spark there, and he had recently met Rachel there, too. Philo heard a lot about her; she always pushed Eero to have a normal life, and Philo knew the first step to achieving that would be to never talk to him again. 

So, Philo was not incredibly fond of Rachel, even if he understood her sentiment.  

When they pulled up to Sara’s apartment, Philo felt hesitant to go inside. The apartment building was a raggedy red brick building, eroded by the consistent rain and snow. The building itself was likely many decades old, and its appearance showed for that. 

But the reason he was hesitant to go in was not because of the state of the building. That, he was used to. 

It was Sara he didn’t want to see.