Odessa

The soft warmth of your bed beckons, a stark contrast to the familiar dread that accompanies the thought of school. It's another morning in your small town, a place you've spent half your life, a place that feels less like home and more like a stage for your daily anxieties.

You drag yourself out of bed, the image in the bathroom mirror reflecting puffy eyes and a lingering, unpleasant taste. The routine begins – a quick rinse, brushing teeth, the same casual outfit chosen for its ability to look effortlessly put-together.

Downstairs, the comforting sight of your parents on the front porch, sipping their morning drinks, offers a brief respite before you head out into the crisp autumn air. The bus ride is a montage of familiar streets and quiet observations, soundtracked by old R&B.