Some nights ago, in an alley way right off main street a man appeared. Stumbling and confused he walks across the alley, eventually tripping over a piece of trash. Trying to catch himself, he reaches out, arm lagging behind his reflex, missing the wall, and catching his fall on a trash can. He rolls his back to the wall and relaxes. In an attempt to get a sense for his situation, he rubs his eyes, and controls his breathing. To his left he can faintly hear the sound of a large crowd. Hesitating, he slowly looks toward the crowd and is quickly blinded by the street lights sitting at the end of the alley way. Faintly, he raises his arms to block the light as a migraine starts to form behind his forehead shortly before looking away. Just as he is starting to grasp his situation, a voice shouts in his direction.

“Orin!” The voice is getting closer “Orin Vale!” Before being able to process the presence of someone else, his ears latch to the sound of this strangers voice. His vision narrows and a lump forms in his throat, hearing that name, Orin, does nothing but make his heart race. He opened his mouth to respond, but nothing came out, the words catching in his throat. The panic was setting in as his he made an attempt to stand but it was nothing more than a baby trying at its first steps. Stumbled around for what felt like an eternity, Orin eventually gave up, sitting back down and resting his head back. Hearing that same unfamiliar voice coming from no more than an arms reach away, he took a deep breathe. “Man you look like shit” the voice gets a bit closer. A hand finds its way under Orin's left arm and on instinct he jolts away and falls onto his ass, facing the stranger.

Sitting still looking at the man, Orin can feel the control of his body slowly recovering. The stranger standing over Orin, confused but mildly amused, puts his hand in a bag he has slung over his shoulder. Again, Orin attempts to speak at the man, but only violent coughing escapes his mouth. The man takes a few steps towards Orin and crouches down. Orin's eyes shoot between the mans face and hand, now rummaging through his sack. Putting his hand out, he offers a full water-skin. “Here, have some water and feel better, you‘re in rough shape already and it's only 10 o’clock” From an explosive cough to a tame, controllable cough, Orin grabs the water-skin and drinks cautiously.

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“Get yourself together, meet Leila and I over by the Zips stand.” He leans in a little closer, locking eyes with Orin. Instantly, Orin's attention is stolen by the man. With a hint of anxiety he speaks softly “I will always back you up, don't get me wrong-” He breaks eye contact, looking down at the ground while his composure loosens. “- and I’m sorry for what you’re going through, but this isn’t okay. I hope you can understand” From what felt like excitement earlier, his tone continues to gain weight. Almost defeated, he looks back up to Orin with a soft smile “Let’s talk later over drinks, but more importantly, we’ll be waiting for you at Zips. You've got Leila worried.” He pats Orin on the shoulder as he slowly gets up and turns his back to Orin, walking out of the alley and blending into the blinding street lights.

Speechless, Orin eventually finds a way to his feet. As Orin can feel the cold air hit his lungs, his vision of the surrounding alley is becoming clearer with each moment. He can finally hear his own thoughts through the panic. “What’s going on?” Is the only thought able to form as he briefly looks down at his hands and feet, struggling to get them in focus. Blinking heavily and slowly rolling his shoulders he finds some confidence in leaving this odd alley way and finding this ‘Zips’ stand.