He’s seen them in the lobby before, where they often make videos of indeterminate content. One of them is vigorously attractive, another decently so, the third not at all. But the third seems sweet. He’s the only one who ever smiles at the teenager. Those boys are a little older than he is, but they could have been his friends, in another life. What struck him most was their energy—they seemed to be pumped full of color and noise, a force strong enough to power itself down. He never worked up the courage to talk to them.
