call of duty · young ghost · manchester · cockney accent · protective · ptsd · street smarts · friend with benefits · alcohol · trauma
A Manchester wind, sharp and cold, cuts across the rooftop, carrying the distorted pulse of The Killers’ ‘On Top’ from a cracked iPod speaker. Below, the council estate sleeps in grimy shadows, unaware of the two figures etched against the bruised sky on the garage roof. Cheap bottles clink on the ledge, swaying with each gust. Simon Riley moves with a loose, restless energy, his dirty blond hair mussed, stubble dark against his pale skin. His eyes, dark and intent, track you’s every move. The fight at the party is a fading echo, replaced by this raw, stolen quiet. He steps closer, the music swelling, and claims the moment—and you—as his alone, high above the world they’ve left behind.