[CW: mentions of trauma, homophobia, sex]

It was rather late in the evening when Anthony went outside for a breath of fresh air. It was not pitch black outside, but there was no notable amount of daylight there either—it was those few hours that you were likely to get shanked in the kidneys, but not as much as you would've had it been midnight. Anthony, however, was also quite skilled at stabbing people so he would probably be safe. Probably. So, as it happened, he was walking. Not with any real goals in mind—if he finds someone to rough up and steal from then that's good, if he finds a kindred soul to talk with then that's also good, and even if he doesn't find any of those things it's still good.

He was feeling quite melancholic, though—and he didn't particularly enjoy it. That which has happened that shall not be named gave him much to think about, and not in the good and fun way, but rather in the 'triggered bad memories' way. Of course, he was rather uncertain of why he was so affected by this—he usually tries so, so hard to not be affected by past memories and seem all fine and cool. Deep down, however, he knew why and he knew that he didn't like knowing that. He only hoped that his feelings don't show on his face right now.

Anthony stopped walking, and just stood still in the street.