Riley Gage's Arc

Chapter 3 of 6

Riley sits with his back against the fence, knees pulled up, staring at the pink glow bleeding under the auto-shop door. He can't hear what Marcus is saying inside. He doesn't need to. He knows exactly what words his brother is using right now, knows the way their older brothers' faces are shifting from confusion to disgust. He doesn't remember moving, but he's halfway down the block now, stumbling past a noodle stall where steam curls into the pink and blue neon lights. The silence in his head is worse than the noise ever was. It's not peaceful. It's empty, like standing in a room after everyone's walked out and realizing you're the reason they left. He trips over something and goes down hard on his hands and knees. Boots appear in his vision. Black, worn, practical. He looks up and sees Xyra standing over him, magnetic climbing gloves on her hands, a stack of sleek metal crates behind her still humming from whatever delivery route she just finished. She doesn't ask if he's okay. She just looks at him like he's a problem she's calculating. "You staying down there?" she says. Her voice is flat. No sympathy. No judgment. Just the question. Riley opens his mouth to say something, maybe to explain, maybe to deflect, but she cuts him off. "Because if you are, move. You're blocking my next pickup." She adjusts one of the gloves, the magnet whirring softly. "And if you're not, then get up and do something about whatever put you there." She doesn't wait for an answer. She steps around him and starts checking the crates, her focus already somewhere else. Riley sits there for three more seconds, then pushes himself to his feet. His hands are shaking but his legs hold. Xyra doesn't look back at him, doesn't acknowledge that he moved, and somehow that makes it easier. He can't wallow when someone just told him he's in the way.