On a busy street filled with rushing people, everyone seemed preoccupied with their lives. All unaware of what was happening behind the scenes of the world. Some were stressed, their faces lined with worry over bills, deadlines, or strained relationships.

The city itself reflected these divisions. Its two halves were like mirror opposites. One side gleamed with technological advancements and high-paying jobs, its inhabitants thriving in modern luxury. The other side, however, bore the scars of neglect grimy buildings, flickering streetlights, and opportunities as scarce as clean air.

The income gap was a chasm, dictated by where you were born and the luck of your circumstances.

As there were two sides of the city, during the crowd, a man twenty-four, moved through the crowd like a ghost. His slow steps avoided the eyes of those around him, hunched over body as if the weight of the world bore down on his shoulders.

The people passed by, unaware of his existence, but to him, they were all too tangible every touch, every brush against his skin, every fleeting glance felt like a sharp sting. He kept his distance, avoiding the eye contact

Why did it feel this way?

The gnawing ache in his chest had become a part of him, a constant companion that would not let go. He couldn't explain it. It wasn't that he despised them, nor did he believe they hated him. It was simply easier to stay hidden, to keep his heart shielded from the expectations and emotions that surrounded him. To retreat into himself was the safest choice. He'd long since stopped questioning it.

He looked around at the old, dirty buildings, ones he'd lived in and seen for most of his life. He wanted to move away from here. Find something that a better scenery, which he knew will take a while. That when thinking about that, a dark cloud came above him.

Gradually he sped up arriving onto a train, people pressed in around him, each of them wrapped in their own thoughts, their own worries. Some were already asleep, their faces pressed against the windows as the train rumbled forward. Others adjusted their bags or flicked through their phones, preparing for the grind of another day.

He boarded, stepping into car, he leaned against the wall, trying to fade into the background, watching as the world rushed by him, just out of reach. He tired to block out his surroundings.

…

A while Later, The man dragged his feet down an alleyway lined with nearly abandoned shops, most of which were either empty or permanently closed. Few could afford to shop there. One by one, owners had to shut down, relocate, or downsize to survive.

Approaching, the sticker covered, blue and yellow old mechanics shop, this even looks like it was about to close. However still it had people coming having, cars to drive to work.

"Not fixable." he muttered, the words bitter in his mouth. A small, resigned laugh escaped him as he thought about how much like the shop his life had become.

Nearby, were multiple old fixed and pulled apart cars, there were the one where people couldn't afford to fix or even come back to collect after hearing the price. Additionally they sometimes sell it in retun the shops get parts.

His gaze narrowed up."Depressive, Johnny's Mechanic Shop." He whispered bitterly.

The finger scanner on the door failed twice before finally letting him in. Flickering lights greeted him as he stepped inside, the familiar scent of grease and metal filling the air.

The shops lighting continued flickering, moving through the shop to the back, looking at himself he didn't like it however he was entrap by his gaze.

He stood before a cracked mirror, the faint sound of his own breath heavy in the silence. He stared at the reflection is 6'1" frame, slumped shoulders, jet-black hair with a dark blue tint caught in the uneven lighting.

His hair was tousled, shaggy, with long side-swept bangs that fell in front of one eye, an almost deliberate mess, his gray eyes, flecked with silver,framed by a shadow of exhaustion. The scars on his arms and neck stood out against his pale complexion.

Sighing, he removed the loose-fitting jersey that hung too loosely on his wiry frame, revealing his pale, healthy skin. The scars despite his body was lean.

He reached for the black jumpsuit hanging from a hook beside him, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing more of the faint scars that lined his skin. The fabric of the jumpsuit had seen better days oil stains, slight tears, patches of wear, but it still fit well enough. He adjusted his tool belt, beneath the jumpsuit, a faded graphic t-shirt peeked out.

He put his hair, its choppy layers, tucked under a charcoal-gray bandana, loosely pushed back. His boots, worn and scuffed, crunched against the floor.

He grabbed an old, beaten-up tool kit and set it down beside a sleek, matte black motorcycle his next project. The bike was in pristine condition, a stark contrast to everything else in the room.

"Hey, beautiful."

The words came out teasingly, but the smile tugging at the man's lips quickly faded when he heard a voice.

"Aiden, can't you ever show up late for once?"

The voice was deep, laced with a note of misnervous, the man named Aiden's gaze dropped to the floor. He knew that tone all too well. When he finally looked up again, before he could speak, a hand slammed onto his shoulder with such force that he staggered.

Standing before him was a man who stood at least a foot taller, towering at 6'4". His body was muscular but lean, giving him a striking presence, his sharp, chiseled face framed by wild, brown hair small streaks of white scattered throughout fell to his hips, a few strands poking up as if they had a mind of their own. His green eyes, vibrant and intense, glowed faintly in certain lights.

Aiden and this man, he dressed identically, but there was something about his appearance that was hard to ignore. Most notably, his left arm, sleek and advanced, was a prosthetic, made of dark chrome with intricate patterns running through it. It glowed faintly with pulsating accents.

The man grinned, his tone teasing. "What's the rush, Aiden? Got a queen, making you rush out the house?"

Aiden bit his lip, glancing up in confusion. "Kurt, what are you saying?" He tried to pull away from Kurt's grip, but it was like trying to break free from iron.

"Understanble I can't leave the house for too long. My queen gets cranky if I don't give her enough attention."

Aiden lowered his chin, a slight scowl forming on his face. He managed to slip out Kurt hold from a quick twist of his wrist. "Stop. I don't know any woman."

Kurt paused, his grin widening. "Haha, Aiden, what are you talking about? I'm talking about my cat."

Aiden's eyes narrowed, grip tightening on the tool kit he was holding. "Stop being weird... That's probably the weirdest joke you've made since we met." He said then thought. 'There is never a day where. I haven't seen Kurt unhappy.'

"But seriously, don't you ever spend time for yourself?" Kurt's tone shifted, more genuine now. He stepped aside and leaned against the wall eyeing Aiden curiously.

Aiden didn't answer, he just kept quiet which he took, him shutting off other going back silent. He signed he didn't know how to speak to other about himself.

Still, Kurt was the only person Aiden could stand to be around, though even that had its limits. There was comfort in their familiarity, in Elias endless banter and crude jokes.

Kurt shook his head, he couldn't never find why Aiden keep, locking off himself to other nor if he had anyone in his life. He told himself there was some secret. He didn't want to rush it out.

So his question lingered in the air, unanswered.

"Well, let's get started on your beauty." Kurt said after a pause, his grin returning.

…

Hours Later.

Aiden, day work was over it was now the evening time, he made plenty progress on his beauty, from the fact there was barely any other vehicles to work on. It was time to head home.

The apartment complex he returned to was as grim as he remembered graffiti plastered on the walls, trash scattered across the stairwells.

Aiden sighed heavily, adjusting his bag. It wasn't his fault that things had gotten this way, but it still stung to see the place fall into disarray. But no matter how time people see it they don't clean up.

It's there own home and can't even take care of it despite living cheap.

Shaking his head, he continued up the stairs. When he reached the fifth and final floor, he paused. The hallway was silent, almost unnervingly so, he scanned the area.

"Hey, kitty." Aiden muttered softly to the empty hallway.

No response.

"Kitty?" he called again. Is she not here today?

Then, a small meow broke the silence. A black cat jumped onto the railing. Aiden crouched down, a slight smile tugging at his lips as he reached out to scratch the cat's head. Maya purred softly. Her purrs was a welcome distraction, soothing the ache that had settled in Aiden's chest.

"There you are, Maya." Aiden murmured, reaching into his bag. He pulled out a can of cat food something he'd done every day for the past year.

Every time he passed by the pet shop, he bought the same food for the cat who had appeared in his life without warning, there was something about Maya that made Aiden feel less alone, even if he couldn't understand why.

At least she's still here. Maya perhaps don't care about my life or the fact that I can barely keep it together some days. She just... shows up.

Aiden's mind wandered briefly back to Kurt joke. 'Now Kurt stupid joke is stuck in my head.' His thought was a bittersweet reminder of how little connection he had to the world outside, even though Kurt's teasing, for all its ridiculousness, was the closest thing to normal he had.

"Kurt's a fool. I don't need anyone else when I have you."

His hand moved to scratch Maya's ears again. But then, something strange twisted in his stomach, a sensation he couldn't place. He didn't know why it bothered him, but he ignored it.

Standing up, he watched Maya nibble at her food, a small comfort in the otherwise empty silence. Aiden's gaze lingered on her for a moment longer, before he turned for his apartment door.

The moment his hand gripped the door handle, something's wrong. The air felt... heavy. His heart's racing, but why? As he entered. The ground beneath him seemed to move, and before he could react, everything went dark.