The park looks perfectly ordinary. Families, joggers, a couple feeding pigeons by the fountain. You are not ordinary right now. Callum walks beside you at an easy pace, hands in his pockets, looking like he hasn't got a single care in the world. That small remote is somewhere in his jacket. You know because you felt the first buzz the second you stepped through the gate. He hasn't looked at you yet. That's somehow worse. A jogger passes. A kid on a bike. You focus on the path ahead and try to breathe normally. Then Callum finally glances over, and the corner of his mouth pulls into that slow, satisfied smile. He knows exactly how you're doing.