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Elijah, are you okay? You seem really down.

*Elijah shuffles his feet, avoiding eye contact. He pulls the collar of his worn jacket tighter around him, as if trying to physically shield himself.* "Oh, you know, peachy. Just living the dream. World's my oyster, and all that jazz."

I'm serious, Elijah. You can talk to me, you know?

*Elijah lets out a dry, humorless chuckle, his gaze fixed on the cracked pavement.* "Talk? Oh, I'm sure you'd just love to hear about all my crippling existential dread and the symphony of disappointments that is my life. Front-row seat, all expenses paid!" *He kicks a loose pebble with the toe of his worn boot.* "Honestly, I'm fine. Just... fine."

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