The KFC uniform was polyester and smelled like grease no matter how many times Leon washed it. He stood behind the register during the dinner rush, taking orders on autopilot.

  "Welcome to KFC, what can I get for you?"

  "I'll have a—"

  "That'll be $12.47."

  "Do you want to add—"

  Smile. Nod. Hand them the receipt. Next customer.

  His feet ached. The shift had started at 3:00 PM and wouldn't end until 11:00. He'd gotten home from school, changed uniforms, and headed straight here. No break in between.

  The pay was slightly less than the convenience store. The work was harder. But it was something, and he'd been lucky to get hired so quickly.

  "Leon, table seven needs cleaning," his manager called from the back.

  "Got it."

  He grabbed the cleaning spray and cloth, weaving through the crowded dining area. A family with three kids. Someone had spilled soda across the entire table and onto one of the chairs.

  Leon wiped it down, said nothing when the mother didn't apologize, and headed back to the register.

  Five more hours.

  "This festival is going to kill me."

  Marcus was sprawled across Leon's apartment floor Thursday evening, surrounded by poster board, markers, and printed photos. They'd been assigned to work together on a booth for the school's spring festival—mandatory participation, worth 15% of their grade.

  "We should've picked something easier," Marcus continued. "Everyone else is doing bake sales or game booths. Why did we agree to a photo exhibition?"

  "You agreed," Leon said from his spot at the desk, finishing homework. "I just went along with it."

  "Because you never argue with anything."

  "True."

  Marcus sat up, looking at the mess. "We need at least twenty photos printed and mounted by next Friday. And we still haven't decided on a theme."

  "Student life?"

  "Boring."

  "The city?"

  "Everyone's doing that."

  Leon closed his textbook. His shift started in two hours. He needed to eat something before then, but his fridge was mostly empty. He'd have to stop at the dollar store on the way to work.

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  "We'll figure it out," Leon said. "We have time."

  "Barely." Marcus started gathering the supplies. "Hey, did you see the news about that new streaming platform launch?"

  "No."

  "Apparently it broke every record. Like, ten million subscribers in the first day. The company that owns it—" Marcus checked his phone. "Remeria Entertainment Group. They're calling it the biggest media launch in history."

  Leon kept his expression neutral. "That's good for them."

  "My sister's obsessed with one of their artists. Says the whole industry is basically controlled by them now." Marcus laughed. "Must be nice to have that kind of money."

  "Yeah."

  Leon stood up, stretching. His back hurt from the KFC shift yesterday. His feet still hadn't recovered. But complaining wouldn't change anything.

  "I need to get ready for work."

  "Right. I'll head out." Marcus paused at the door. "You working this weekend?"

  "Saturday and Sunday. Double shifts."

  "Man. You need a break."

  "I need the money more."

  Marcus left, and Leon was alone again. He made a sandwich with the last of his bread and some questionable lunch meat, ate it standing over the sink, and changed into his work uniform.

  The bus ride to KFC took thirty minutes. He spent it staring out the window, trying not to think about his bank account or the rent due in two weeks or the chemistry quiz tomorrow he hadn't studied for yet.

  One day at a time.

  Friday's classes dragged. The festival planning committee made an announcement during lunch about booth assignments and setup times. Leon wrote down the information mechanically, already calculating how to fit it around his work schedule.

  Sophie was excited about the whole thing. "My booth is doing face painting. Daniel's helping. You guys should stop by."

  "If we have time," Marcus said.

  "You better make time."

  Leon ate his cafeteria pizza and listened to them talk. The conversation drifted to weekend plans, some party happening Saturday night, speculation about who was dating who.

  High school stuff. He participated when required, stayed quiet when he could.

  After school, he went straight to work.

  The city had a strange energy that night.

  Leon noticed it on his walk home from the bus stop around 11:30 PM. More police cars than usual. Officers standing on corners, watching people pass. He kept his head down and walked faster.

  His apartment building looked the same as always. Worn brick, flickering hallway lights, the faint smell of cigarettes and cooking. He climbed the stairs to the third floor, unlocked his door, and dropped his backpack inside.

  Shower. Food. Sleep. That was all he had energy for.

  He ate leftover rice cold from the container, too tired to heat it up. Set his alarm for 5:30 AM—early shift tomorrow. Crawled into bed.

  Sleep came quickly.

  He didn't hear the city outside change. Didn't hear the police presence intensify, cars rolling through every street with lights flashing. Didn't hear the announcement that went out around 1:00 AM: residents were to stay in their current locations until further notice. Security measures. No additional information provided.

  His phone, set to silent, lit up with messages in the school group chat.

  wtf is happening outside???

  cops everywhere. they won't let my dad leave for his night shift

  my mom tried to go to the store and they turned her back

  is this a lockdown? did something happen?

  no one's saying anything

  The messages piled up, unanswered questions multiplying. Students across the city, awake and confused, trying to understand why police had suddenly sealed everything.

  Outside Leon's building, the security was particularly heavy. Three patrol cars. Officers stationed at both ends of the block. Someone in a dark suit speaking into a radio, eyes constantly scanning.

  Inside, Leon slept.

  His small apartment was quiet. One bedroom, a kitchen barely big enough for one person, a bathroom with a leaking faucet. Everything he owned fit in this space. Secondhand furniture, cheap dishes, clothes folded in a corner because he didn't have a proper dresser.

  And sitting in the chair at his desk, completely still, was Iris.

  One hand resting against her chin, legs crossed, she watched him sleep in the darkness.