Maurice's POV,
I never wanted to depend on anyone? Why else would I run away to LA and not turn to my relatives and friends? But just the thought of being alone right now, and in turn alone facing Stan, just petrifies me. It turns all my anxiety bare-skinned, and me, cold. I'm scared of this polluted New York air; the pollution of hatred and detest. I've left many things behind, running away from them. It scared me, people turning to my face and being known to me, asking me things I couldn't say. Where is your dad? Where is my mom? I have no answer for them. It’s too scary. I fear seeing the people from my old life and, most of all, I'm scared to face Stan and his family, his brothers I played with growing up. My absence must have turned all of them hostile to the way I betrayed those peo
