Ezra was back on his grind the next morning, but each time he passed the empty alley where Tormund once made his home, he felt a pang in his chest.

He missed the old man. Someone had gathered his tattered things, leaving them folded neatly in front of his door.

When he saw it, he stared at it for a while, wondering what to do – burn it or keep it and hang on to the memory of their friendship.

In the end, he decided to shove it into a garbage bag, shoving down the ache of losing Tormund just like he always shoved down his pain.

He knew it was only a matter of time before he exploded. He silently hoped it would not happen soon.

He got dressed for his shift in the garage. He moved with his head low, trying to be as invisible as he could.

While his coworkers chatted at lunch, he sat in the garage, using his time to tinker with an engine, preferring to be alone.

“It's good to have you back, Ezra,” his boss, Mika, said. She gave him a wink that looked more like a blink. Ezra nodded, amused at her poor attempt at flirting.

“Thanks, Mika.”

“My door is open if you need me,” she said with a suggestive grin. Ezra caught it but chose to ignore it like he always did.

“ ‘preciate it, really,” he offered her a tight, dismissive smile as he turned back to his work. He stayed back late even though the garage had emptied now, dreading the quiet of his apartment and Tormund's absence. His phone buzzed in his pocket. He pulled it out. Ty's name flashed on the screen.

“Where you at, bro?” Ty sounded like he had just completed a marathon – on someone's body no doubt.

“Still at the shop. But I'm heading out soon. "What's up?” Ezra said as he grabbed his work bag off the table.

“You know that party Jaz has been hyping all week?”

“Yeah?”

“Your mom's there. And she's causing quite a scene.”

Ezra squeezed his eyes shut for a moment, trying to take in the information, “Mom? At a party?”

He didn't need to be told that she was after her next hit, looking for something – anything – to numb herself.

“Where?”

“Diego’s place. You gotta get there quickly before the cops show up. I'm out,” the line went dead.

Ezra slung his bag over his shoulder, put on his helmet, and got on his bike, heading towards Diego's place.

The street was filled with teenagers and young adults spilling out, laughing with red cups containing alcohol in their hands.

Ezra pushed through the crowd, his chest tight with anger.

He checked everywhere – the living room, lounge, basement even.

No sign of her.

When he went into the kitchen, he froze.

Sitting on a chair at the far end of the room was the red-haired girl from the hospital. She was smiling and typing away on her phone.

She looked even more stunning under the dim lights.

As if she could feel his gaze, she looked up at him and their eyes met.

For a second, he forgot why he was there. But a slurred shout snapped him back to reality.

There, on the counter, stood his mother. She was in a dress meant for a teenage girl and boots. Her hair was a tangled mess.

Ezra inhaled sharply, his gaze shifting back to the girl.

She was still staring at him.

God damn it. Now, he had to deal with this in front of her.

“Alright, Mom. "You've had a lot of fun. "Time to go,” he said.

His mother, Maren, swayed around like a kid refusing bedtime,

“I don't want to do that. That's boring,”

“Who's this lady? "She's kinda hot for an old chick,” “Bet she's someone's wild aunt,”

The partygoers murmured.

Ezra clenched his fists, swallowing the embarrassment. He could feel the girl's gaze on his back.

“Mom, come on please,” he said, “I've got something for you at home,”

Her face lit up in excitement, “Really, love?”

He was grateful that she was finally listening to him.

“Yeah, just get down and let's go,”

He held out his hand to support her, and she came down from the counter clumsily.

The red-haired girl watched from the corner with an unreadable expression.

Ezra did his best to avoid her gaze, leading Maren towards the door.

Halfway to the door, Maren threw up, vomiting onto his jacket.

The room erupted in screams and a chorus of “Gross!”

Ezra sighed and dragged Maren out quicker.

“Sorry, baby,” Maren said, fingering her disheveled hair, “Don't be angry with mommy…”

There was no way he could ride his bike with her in that condition. So he secured it somewhere in Diego's garage and walked Maren home.

At the apartment, he nudged her awake to shower, then gave her a pair of his old sweats.

As a matter of routine, Ty had already pulled out the cushion bed.

Ezra grabbed a soda and sank into a chair. “I saw her again,”

“Who?”

“The girl from the hospital. The Quilliam girl.”

Ty sat up, “What's a little princess doing in our neighborhood? Her mother would probably lose it if she found out.”

“No clue. She was not supposed to be here.”

The sound of water rushing from the shower stopped – Maren would soon be out.

Ty grinned, “So what? You're embarrassed? You? Mr. Stone Cold? Don't fucking kid me,”

Ezra shrugged, “Well, maybe a little,”

Ty laughed, “Man. Ezra, get off it. She's way out of your league, man. Rich, fancy, probably got a bodyguard. Chalk it up as a loss,”

“You think?” Ezra’s brow lifted.

“I don't think so, Ezra. "Okay, "I know. "She's not your world, bro,” Ty said as he turned his phone off, “I'm crashing." Big day tomorrow. I got a date.”

“You gotta chill at some point,” Ezra laughed.

“Well, I hope that point comes around soon. Till then, I'm gonna keep trying my luck,” Ty said, rolling into his blanket, leaving Ezra staring at the ceiling, the image of the red-haired girl lingering in his mind, no matter how hard he tried to do away with thoughts of her.