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The city was loud.
Every day, the streets were flooded with far too many people. There were just too many sounds and noises, all carried through the air, blending into a chaotic symphony of chaos. Yelling echoed through the narrow alleys, voices bouncing off stone walls, rising above the hum of a thousand conversations, all happening at the same time in the same place. It was as though every person was trying to speak over the other, and yet, it truly is a wonder how they still managed to understand each other.
Musicians lined the sidewalks, their instruments in hand, playing their songs with a carefree attitude, as if the noise around them didn’t matter at all. Their music, while beautiful in its own right, only added to the already overwhelming atmosphere. The strumming of guitars, the soft whistle of flutes, the heavy thump of drums—each sound blending together, ringing in Zams’ ears. The sounds were relentless, a constant wave that felt like it would never quiet down.
The sounds clashed with one another, competing for space, drowning out everything else. It felt as though the noise itself was alive, a beast that never rested, never took a break. It was as if the city itself was screaming for attention, with no one willing to silence it.
In Zam’s opinion, the city was far too loud.
The city was too bright.
Flashing lights from shop signs blinked relentlessly, promoting wares that no one would bother buying, but lighting up the streets as if they were something worth noticing. The lamp posts lining the sidewalks were now unnecessary, their light no longer serving a practical purpose but instead existing solely as an aesthetic addition to the landscape. The city, it seemed, had become a canvas for neon art, designed to catch your eye even if there was no real reason to look.
Each club, store, and restaurant had its own unique lighting, with windows offering glimpses into rooms bathed in red, yellow, and purple hues. The colors clashed against each other, as if each was fighting for dominance, trying to outshine the others and claim control over which light would reign over the street. The effect was dizzying, almost as if the city itself was competing to see who could be the most garish, who could be the brightest, as if it were a race where no one cared who won—only that the lights stayed on.
The best way to navigate the city, it seemed, was to keep your eyes fixed firmly on the ground in front of you, avoiding the dizzying barrage of color that filled every corner of the street.
In Zam’s opinion, the city was far too bright.
The city was too busy.
People from all corners of the town converged in one place, each with their own purpose—shopping, hanging out, or indulging in all kinds of activities. The streets were flooded, like a never-ending traffic jam, each person blocking his path, pushing and shoving, herding him into place with no regard for his direction. The sheer volume of movement around him feeling overwhelming, a constant wave of bodies surging forward with no space to breathe.
The masses around him too focused on themselves, lost in their own worlds. They don't even notice him, let alone make an effort to move aside. Each bump, each accidental brush against his side, seems to make him jump. The city, in that moment, felt like a cage, its walls closing in, and with every step, it became harder to want to be there at all. The noise, the crowd, the chaos—it all blended together, and soon, the idea of being anywhere but here seemed like the only option.
In Zam’s opinion, the city was far too busy.
He was sensible—most people had told him so already. His senses were so sharp that even the slightest yell could send him spiraling into overwhelming thoughts. Zam got overwhelmed too easily, constantly on edge.
Yet, all of that seemed to change whenever he was with Mapicc. He wasn't sure if it was Mapicc’s aura, the atmosphere he projected, or perhaps some magical spell that had been cast upon him at some point. It didn’t matter; when Mapicc was by his side, things felt different.
With Mapicc around, Zam no longer minded the loud sounds of the bustling streets. It was as though the world had softened, and in Mapicc’s presence, Zam found a sense of silence that he had never experienced before. It was as though the noise and chaos faded into the background, leaving only the comforting presence of his companion.
When with Mapicc, Zam could focus on him, letting the sorroundings of the world fade into the background. It was easier to tune out the distractions around him and, in the quiet, he could see how Mapicc’s emotions were carefully concealed beneath his tough-guy facade. Zam would block out the blinding city lights, just to focus on the way the light in Mapicc's eyes would shine when they spoke—how his entire face would light up with warmth when acknowledged or engaged in conversation.
Walking alongside Mapicc, people didn’t bump into them. Instead, they seemed to notice Zam, standing proudly next to his companion, and respected his space. It was as if Mapicc’s presence created a protective bubble around them, one that kept the chaos of the city at bay.
With Mapicc by his side, the cities don't feel nearly as overwhelming.
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The city was too brutal.
Having experienced it firsthand, life in a city can be tough—ruthless even. One wrong look can earn you a punch in the gut. Messing with the wrong people, being in the wrong place at the wrong time, it all can cost you your life. Hell, there’s no way of knowing what desperate drug addicts in these cities are capable of when pushed to their limits.
Growing up on violent streets, you become accustomed to walking home with dark purple bruises and open cuts. You get used to going to bed hungry because some jerk stole your money.There's no real safety, no sense of security. You learn to survive, but at what cost? You never know who’s watching or when danger might strike. Life in the city is a constant game of survival.
In Mapicc's opinion, The city was far too brutal.
The city was too restless.
Each day, people shuffled through the streets, through the alleyways. Workers never stopped, stores bustled with customers running about during the day, while the clubs teemed with life at night. Drunks wandered the streets, mimicking the steps of those who walked earlier, even while the sun was still hanging in the sky.
People always had a set destination, a place they were headed to or something they truly wanted to reach. But for someone who is simply there, drifting without any idea of where to go, they don't belong in such a space. The crowd easily sweeps you off your feet, dragging you with it like a current pulling a piece of wood across the water's surface.
It was a place where purpose and direction ruled, and the aimless were left to be swept away. The constant motion, the constant noise, it was overwhelming, relentless. The city never slept, never stopped—forever moving, never giving you a chance to catch your breath.
In Mapicc's opinion, the city was far too restless
The city was too judgmental.
With so many people crammed into one area, it left you feeling exposed. It was as if your privacy was being stripped away, piece by piece, with each passing second. The sensation of eyes constantly on you—watching, evaluating—nagged at the back of your mind. Every move you made, every word you spoke, seemed to carry the weight of being scrutinized. And the worst part? If you messed up, everyone around you would see it.
The crowds were made up of total strangers, unfamiliar to one another, yet somehow, everyone seemed to care. You had to be careful—not to be too loud, not to act too out of place. Be casual. Whatever that meant. The unspoken rule was clear: fit in, or risk standing out in a way that could be unforgiving.
In Mapic’s opinion, the city was far too judgmental.
Mapicc was used to the ruthlessness of the city. He had grown up on these streets, becoming cold and indifferent to the constant chaos around him. He knew when to ignore people, how to keep to himself, and how to avoid unnecessary conflict. He was all too familiar with it—the harshness, the relentless stares, the unspoken rules. The facade of being emotionally distant, of not caring about anything or anyone, had almost become second nature.
But all of that changed when he was with Zam. He couldn’t quite understand what had led him to choose another guy—someone probably even more mentally messed up than he was—as his sort of comfort. But somehow, that’s how it ended up.
Zam, in Mapicc’s eyes, was the embodiment of the sun. His laugh, his smile, those little things that could light up any room, were enough to make Mapicc forget they were in a city where violence seemed to be a daily occurrence. Just being around Zam made him relax. Conversations with him felt easy. Walking down streets that would usually make Mapicc look over his shoulder became effortless when Zam was there.
With Zam, he didn’t mind the restlessness of the city. The bustling crowds and the unyielding pressure of the world around them faded into the background. It was just the two of them, existing in a way that made him feel like he belonged—even in a place that usually felt so unforgiving.
When he was with Zam, he didn’t care about the prying eyes. Mapicc’s attention was focused solely on Zam—the world around them and all the judgment it carried seemed to disappear. It was as if nothing could be criticized or questioned when he was with someone so perfectly imperfect as Zam.
With Zam by his side, the city didn’t feel nearly as overwhelming.
Sometimes we rely on people we never thought we would. No matter size, personality or age. At one point in your life there will be this one person.
And if it took Zam to hang out with Mappic to finally feel the silence he desired he wouldn't hesitate to say yes to another hang out.
And if it took Mapicc to be around Zam to finally feel at peace for once in his life, then he wouldn't hesitate to send another message asking to meet once again.