Ezekiel's POV
Saturday night at Kane's place, and the house is bursting at the seams with bodies.
Bass thunders from every speaker, rattling the windows while the smell of stale beer, greasy pizza, and too many sweaty teenagers hangs thick in the air. Voices clash and overlap, creating the familiar chaos that defines weekends in our small town.
Anton and I shoulder our way through the mob, and like clockwork, people flock to him immediately. Star quarterback status makes him royalty around here. I follow in his wake, playing my usual part as loyal sidekick and occasional troublemaker.
"Enzo!" Kane bellows the instant he spots me, delivering a backslap that nearly sends me stumbling. "Dude, you missed the show! Chris tried doing a backflip off the deck railing."
I can already picture the train wreck. "Don't tell me he actually landed it."
"Face-first into the bushes." Kane cackles like a maniac. "Pretty sure he's got a concussion, but man, it was epic."
