Later that evening, Brian sat back in his small apartment, the same one that smelled faintly of whiskey and dust. He placed the family photo on the old two-seat dining table and sank into the chair. Still wearing his white shirt, he removed his black suit and covered his mouth with both hands.
Kate followed him in quietly. She sat in the chair, the same spot his mother used to take — and spoke softly, "We'll get through this, Brian."
"Yeah," he exhaled. "We'll get through it. I just… gotta find a new job."
Kate frowned. "What do you mean, new job?"
Brian hesitated, eyes low. "I got fired from the garage two days before Mom passed. I messed up… I'm sorry I didn't tell you."
He picked up the family photo and brushed the dust off his parents' faces.The little boy in the picture — himself — was still smudged out by dirt and neglect.
Kate reached across the table. "It's okay. I told you — we'll get through this together."
Brian looked up at her. His voice cracked weakly. "You know what's crazy? I don't even know what I'm doing anymore. Dad was a brave soldier who died during the 4th Gulf War. And now look at me. Rock bottom. Maybe… maybe it's time to finally decide what I'm really gonna do."
Kate's eyes widened. "You're thinking about joining the military, aren't you? Your mom told you not to follow your dad's."
Brian bit his lip, trying to keep his emotions in check. "I don't know… maybe. I'll think about it."
Kate stood up, wiping her eyes as she sniffled. "I can't do this right now," she said and walked out, leaving him alone.
Brian clenched the family photo so tight his knuckles went pale. Time passed — weeks, maybe months. He shifted from one job to another: driving gigs, temp mechanic work, a few shifts at a coffee shop. Anything that kept the lights on.
Every dollar he earned came with sweat. Every night, exhaustion.
This city kept moving without him — a city of neon dreams and giant holograms flashing famous faces across the skyline. Rich folks smiled from 360-degree ads above the towers, buying luxury cars and perfumes and selling hope.
And down below, Brian kept walking — another nobody in a city that didn't care. He'd trained as a mechanic, yet somehow he was barely surviving. One night, sitting in his dim apartment, Brian stared at the wall — or maybe through it. His mind raced through every regret, every failure, every "what if."
Sleep wouldn't come. And then, out of nowhere — an idea. suddenly came in like lightning. Maybe the only way to move on… was to do the one thing he swore he'd never do.