The evening air was warm and slow.
The kind of late summer evening where the city seemed to breathe quietly instead of rushing.
Streetlights had just turned on, painting long yellow reflections across the pavement.
*** and Chri were sitting on a low concrete wall outside a small gelato shop.
Kids were still running around nearby.
Cars passed slowly down the street.
Somewhere a group of teenagers laughed too loudly.
It was an ordinary evening.
The kind people forget about.
*** held a melting cone of vanilla and pistachio ice cream.
Chri had chocolate and strawberry.
For a while they ate in silence.
Chri kicked a small pebble with his shoe while licking the side of his cone carelessly.
*** watched the sky turning darker.
Then he spoke.
Quietly.
"Do you think humanity has reached the peak of its evolution?"
Chri blinked.
He turned slowly toward him.
"…What?"
*** didn't look at him.
"Like… biologically."
He stirred the melting ice cream with his spoon.
"Do you think humans are the final version?"
Chri stared at him for two seconds.
Then his ice cream slipped from his hand.
It fell straight to the pavement with a sad splat.
Chri looked down at it.
Then back at ***.
"…Bro."
He rubbed his forehead.
"We're eating ice cream."
He pointed dramatically at the fallen cone.
"And you just started a philosophy lecture."
*** shrugged slightly.
But Chri sighed and leaned back on his hands.
"Fine."
He looked out at the street.
"You want my opinion?"
*** nodded.
Chri snorted.
"No."
He gestured toward the people walking by.
"Look at us."
His voice became more serious.
"Poor people get ignored."
He pointed toward a man digging through a trash bin across the street.
"Rich people get worshipped."
A fancy car drove past slowly.
"Even when they're idiots."
He rubbed the back of his neck.
"And the rest of us?"
He shrugged.
"Half the population is addicted to something."
He counted on his fingers.
"Cigarettes."
"Alcohol."
"Drugs."
"Social media."
"Power."
He looked back at ***.
"Does that sound like peak evolution to you?"
*** didn't answer immediately.
He watched the melted ice cream slowly spreading across the pavement where Chri's cone had fallen.
Then Chri spoke again.
His voice softer now.
"…Did you have that nightmare again?"
***'s fingers tightened around the cone.
"The one where your brother beats you?"
Silence.
The sounds of the street filled the space between them.
Finally *** looked down.
"It's not his fault."
Chri's jaw tightened instantly.
"He's just…"
*** searched for the words.
"…lost."
He wiped a small drop of ice cream from his fingers.
"I love my big brother more than anything."
Chri stared at him.
For a long moment he didn't speak.
Then suddenly—
"What the hell is wrong with you?"
His voice wasn't loud.
But it was sharp.
Angry.
"After everything he's done to you?"
Chri leaned forward.
"After the hospital?"
"After the beatings?"
"After the money?"
He pointed toward ***.
"You still think it's worth it?"
The question hung in the air.
*** stayed quiet.
Then he spoke slowly.
"I have another friend."
Chri frowned.
"What?"
"He's not mentally okay either."
***'s voice was calm.
"But even when he treats me badly sometimes…"
He stared at the ground.
"I know something."
Chri tilted his head.
"What?"
***'s fingers tightened slightly.
"…Without him I wouldn't keep going."
Chri blinked.
Then he raised his eyebrows.
"Without you?"
He leaned closer.
"…Who?"
*** answered quietly.
"Giacomo."
The name carried weight.
Like a memory that still hadn't faded.
*** looked up at the sky.
"He left something for me."
Chri frowned.
"…Left what?"
*** hesitated.
Then he said it.
"A role."
"A task."
Chri stared at him.
"What does that even mean?"
*** looked back down at his ice cream.
"I don't fully know yet."
"But I feel it."
He touched his chest lightly.
"Like something inside me is telling me I have to keep living."
Chri studied his face.
For a moment he looked strangely sad.
Then he leaned back again.
"…That sounds miserable."
*** looked at him.
Chri shrugged slightly.
"Living for someone else."
He looked up at the darkening sky.
"Without a real purpose of your own."
The wind moved softly through the street.
A napkin rolled across the sidewalk.
*** turned toward him slowly.
His voice became very quiet.
"I want someone to see me die."
Chri blinked.
"What?"
*** kept speaking.
"I don't want to die alone."
His fingers tightened around the empty cone.
"I want someone to hold my hand."
He looked directly at Chri now.
"I want to die among you."
Among the people I love.
The words stayed between them.
For a moment Chri said nothing.
Then suddenly—
He laughed.
Not mocking.
Just surprised.
"You're insane."
He wiped a tear from the corner of his eye from laughing.
Then he looked back at ***.
"…About loving you?"
He shrugged.
"That part I'll decide."
He nudged *** lightly with his shoulder.
"But I'll promise you something."
His voice became steady.
"Nothing will separate us."
The streetlights flickered slightly above them.
And the two boys sat there in the warm night air.
Talking about life.
Death.
And things they didn't fully understand yet.
But for that moment—
They weren't alone.