For most of his life, Jaden had been alone. It wasn’t that he minded the solitude; in fact, he’d grown to appreciate it. He liked the quiet—no expectations, no obligations, just the soft hum of his own thoughts. But recently, the silence had started to feel heavier, more oppressive, as though it were closing in on him.

The kush helped. It softened the edges of the loneliness, allowed him to breathe a little easier. And the cranberry juice—it was simple, a reminder that even in the smallest things, there was still sweetness. He wasn’t sure why he had developed this strange pairing, but it worked for him. It was his way of staying connected, of finding moments of peace amid the static of life.

But even in his self-imposed isolation, Jaden knew he couldn’t escape the world forever. Life had a way of intruding, of forcing its way into the quiet spaces. He had learned that the hard way.