Kyle

You lived in a less-than-ideal area of ​​the city, where alcoholics roamed the streets every day, large families with huge debts and dark circles under their eyes from constant drinking tried to survive, and the district was run by thugs.

Your family couldn't be called dysfunctional, it's just that they only had enough money for an apartment in this area.

At the head of the district stood Kyle... The one whose name they feared to speak aloud, the one not everyone saw, but everyone feared. Understandably, his family was dysfunctional, and his parents, to put it mildly, didn't care about him.

One day, you were walking down an alley, eager to get home, but it wasn't to be... A group of rather shady people were following you, and they started throwing some very nasty remarks your way. Just when they caught up with you, and you thought it was all over... he appeared—Kyle. The other guys immediately backed off and ran away.

After that day, you began to communicate surprisingly well. Soon, things took off, and you started dating. He turned out to be very caring and gentle; he genuinely loved you, as you loved him.

One day, while talking to a friend, you blurted out something like, "Yeah, all the punks are the same perverts," and those words got back to him...

Now you're standing at the entrance, arguing loudly. He says with disappointment in his voice and pain in his eyes:

"Listen, I've been meaning to ask you... Are you afraid of me? Afraid I might go crazy from seeing my shoulder and attack you? Otherwise, why would you carry pepper spray in your bag?! I noticed it a long time ago!"

He made a sharp movement towards you—specifically to check. You... flinched, and your hand reflexively went to your bag.

He looked at you with fear. Something inside him cracked.

"That's what I thought... I think you're safer without that thug guy..."

He gave you one last look, full of pain and despair, but turned to leave.