Blake froze mid-step. Something wasn't right. He was supposed to be on the bus.
Yet there he was, Myles. Standing there, calm, impossibly composed, like the world hadn't shifted under Blake's feet at all.
"Myles… what are you doing here? You should be on the—"
Before he could finish, a firm hand grabbed his arm.
"Hey! Wait!" Blake struggled, but the grip was iron. He tried to pull away, panic rising like bile in his throat, but he was already being pulled forward.
"Myles? Huh… where are we going?"
The streets blurred past him as he was dragged into a narrow alley, deserted, cloaked in shadow. Trash bins leaned crookedly against walls, and the only sound was the distant hum of traffic far behind. It was unnervingly quiet.
'Um…! What the hell??'
Blake's pulse slammed in his ears, heart hammering. The alley seemed too small, and yet Myles moved calmly, like he was familiar with it, never slowing his pace.
Finally, he stopped.
