A group of guys are arguing over a half-finished mural on the far wall, their voices getting louder. One of them shoves the other, who stumbles back into a stack of empty paint cans that clatter to the ground.
Lou watches them. “Ten bucks that turns into a fistfight.”
“Only if someone runs out of paint,” I counter.
“I give it six minutes. Max.”
A real grin spreads across my face. “This is why I brought you.”
“You dragged me here,” he says, raising his voice.
“You were bored.”
“I was comfortable,” he insists, but his eyes are scanning the crowd, already engaged.
I bump his shoulder. “You love me.”
Lou sighs, but it’s lost in the noise. “Unfortunately,” he mouths.
We move deeper into the tunnel, weaving through clusters of people. The stench of spray paint, smoke, and whatever new chemical is making its rounds this week starts clinging to our clothes.
“You still look like hell, by the way,” he says, covering his eyes from the cheap strobe light someone set up.
“Thank you.”
“I’m serious. You look like you haven’t slept since you got back.”
“I filled out two job applications today,” I say, a little defensively.
“Two,” he repeats, letting the number hang in the air.
“Yes, two.”
Lou stops, turning to face me fully, forcing a guy with a giant mohawk to squeeze past us. “That’s barely trying, Sisk. That’s not even a warm-up.”
“It’s hard, okay? Every place wants experience. Or references. Or someone who doesn’t look like they might steal the silverware.”
Lou studies me. “You know that opportunity you left behind was insane, right? A career. Hell, a dream. I think I’d kill for that. No—actually, I know I would. I should’ve killed you and taken your place.”
“Lou.”
“I’m serious, Sisk.”
“I know.”
He sighs, shaking his head as the fight across the tunnel finally breaks out, a flurry of shoving and yelling that no one elseseems to care about. “I was pissed when you left. Then pissed when you dropped everything and came back. And now I’m pissed that I’m actually happy you’re here. It’s exhausting.”
I lean back against the cold concrete wall. “Told you,” I say quietly. “My family needs me.”
Lou’s whole demeanor shifts. “How’s your mom?”
“Bad day yesterday.”
“Pain?”
I nod, my throat tight. “Her meds are starting to stop working again.”
Lou winces. “And your dad?”
