Theo parks the car in front of the film department building. It's quiet, a soft breeze rustling the sycamore trees nearby. The gravel crunches under the tires, the scent of paper, coffee, and youth buzzing in the air. I step out, adjusting my bag. It's not like when I walk around with Felix—no sudden stares, no whispering trails of curiosity or playful envy. Here, some people glance, maybe wonder who I am, then return to their business. I like it better this way.
I send Elliot a quick text, telling him to meet me here instead of my department. It's closer to his building anyway.
Theo and I are mid-conversation—something light about whether Rainbow deserves a personal Instagram—when Elliot shows up. His footsteps echo across the lot. He's wearing black jeans, a maroon shirt, and that tired look he hasn't quite shaken since the funeral. I hand him his camera and flash a brief smile.
