His friends—the ones still clinging to their leather jackets and bottle service—called it "retreating." Elias called it "arriving."
Elias walked toward his brownstone, his joints echoing the rhythm of the pavement. At sixty-five, the "lifestyle"—the late nights, the liquid dinners, the constant hum of being seen —had started to feel like a costume that was two sizes too small. matures giving up pussy
Should the story focus more on the of leaving or the peace found afterward? His friends—the ones still clinging to their leather