Quiet Disturbance

Yeah, come on in. Don't be shy. . . . He's been expecting you... Go ahead–lock the door behind you. Come a little closer. Step into this lonely world of his... well, it was lonely–until she came knocking. Here, in Boston, where the weather shifts without warning, the cold is the only thing that stays. It's in that cold where Buddy thrives... trying to match what's already frozen inside him. But even the cold can’t quiet everything. There’s something beneath it—restless, waiting. A disturbance he pretends not to hear. Footsteps that don’t echo. Thoughts that don’t feel like his. And now that you’re here… It’s starting to notice you too. It always does when someone new arrives. Something shifts in the air when you stand still too long. The silence here isn’t empty—it’s occupied. Like the room is remembering things it shouldn’t. Buddy doesn’t talk much about that part. He pretends it’s normal, like everyone hears the same faint pressure behind the walls. But they don’t. There are moments he forgets where he is. Moments where Boston feels less like a place and more like a weight pressing inward. The windows fog even when it’s not cold enough to justify it. The lights flicker when no one moves. And you… you’re standing in the middle of it now. That’s usually when it gets curious.