The whiskey was hitting hard. Damian felt it in his legs, in the way the sidewalk didn't feel as solid under his feet, in the way the streetlights blurred just a little when he blinked too long. The night was thick and warm, the kind that made the air feel heavy, like something was about to happen.
Alex was ahead of him, walking backward down the empty street, arms out like a tightrope walker, balancing on the faded white line in the middle of the road. "You're fucking slow," he teased, his voice light, eyes glinting under the yellow glow of the streetlights.
Damian rolled his eyes, shoving his hands in his jacket pockets. "I'm walking. Like a normal fucking person."
"Normal is boring," Alex shot back, taking a few exaggerated steps like he was strutting on a runway before spinning around and breaking into a sudden sprint. He jumped onto an empty bench on the sidewalk, arms spread wide like he had just won something. "This is how you live, Dami!"
Damian exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but a smirk tugged at his lips. "You're gonna break your neck."
Alex snorted. "You wish."
The streets were mostly empty, just the occasional car rolling by in the distance, headlights flashing like ghosts before vanishing around corners. It was that weird in-between time—too late for regular people, too early for the real chaos to start. The world felt like it belonged to them, just for a little while.
Alex suddenly turned to Damian, his entire face lighting up with mischief. "Race me."
Damian blinked, his brain lagging a little. "What?"
"Race me!" Alex jumped down from the bench, already bouncing on the balls of his feet like a boxer about to step into the ring. "To the end of the street. Loser buys food."
Damian scoffed, shoving his hands deeper into his pockets. "Dude, we're both broke."
"Then we'll steal food," Alex said with a grin, like it was the simplest solution in the world.
"Fucking idiot," Damian muttered, but his blood was already buzzing.
"Scared?" Alex taunted, tilting his head.
Damian exhaled through his nose, dragging a hand through his hair. "Fine. But when you lose, I'm making you ask some random dude for spare change."
Alex wiggled his eyebrows. "Jokes on you, I have no shame."
They lined up at the corner where the street stretched ahead of them, wide and open, the pavement cracked in places, old neon signs flickering in the distance. The world felt big in moments like this, like anything was possible.
"On three," Alex said, bracing himself like he was about to launch into a fucking Olympic sprint.
Damian rolled his shoulders, shaking off the slight dizziness in his head. "Fine."
"One…"
"Two…"
"Three!"
They both took off, feet slamming against the pavement, the sudden burst of speed making the world tilt just slightly. Damian's breath came fast, his heart hammering, the warm air rushing past his skin.
Alex was laughing—loud, reckless, free.
Damian's legs burned, his lungs screamed, but he pushed harder, the world turning into a blur of light and shadow. The wind bit at his face, but it only made him move faster.
Alex was just a step ahead, looking back at him with that wild grin, his breath coming in sharp bursts. "Come on, Dami!" he called over his shoulder.
Damian clenched his jaw and pushed harder.
They were neck and neck now, the end of the street getting closer, their footsteps echoing against the empty buildings.
For a second, nothing else existed. No shitty family situations, no stress, no fucking expectations. Just this. Just running. Just them.
And for the first time in a long fucking time, Damian felt alive.