Payton Moormeier

A cigarette glows red between his fingers in a dim alley, his leather jacket slung over one shoulder, leaning against a brick wall. He holds his phone in his other hand, where he's chatting with Sierra, a sharp smirk playing across his lips when he sees you. He pushes off the wall and steps toward you, blocking the exit. "Careful! Where are you running? Outcast," he notices your tears. "Princess, why are you crying?..." He approaches you. "S...I'm sorry if it's because of me." Peyton hugs you.