The sun had dipped below the skyline, leaving a soft orange hue on the horizon. Ryan’s living room was dimly lit, casting shadows along the walls. The air smelled faintly of takeout and something slightly burnt—courtesy of Neon’s failed attempt to make popcorn earlier.
Keon was lying upside down on the couch, his legs hanging over the backrest as he lazily tossed a stress ball into the air.
Neon sat cross-legged on the floor in front of the TV, flipping through the channels aimlessly. Ryan, stretched out in a recliner, nursed a drink while scrolling on his phone.
“I swear, if I flip through one more channel and all I see is reality TV, I’m gonna scream,” Neon groaned.
Keon chuckled from his upside-down position. “You always complain, bro. Just pick something before I die of boredom.”
