Opposite lives, Soulmates forever

The dark city of Los Angeles is ideal for George. George finds it comfortable to know that the majority of the city is tucking themselves in while he runs wild across the city with fewer eyes on him. Only the insane or homeless are out this late at night, and George believes it is the greatest time to accomplish what he does best. The paint from his blue spray paint colors the wall of the towering structure with a rapid movement of his wrist. For George, the sensation of spray paint coming out of the nozzle is indescribable. He doesn't stop tagging once he starts, and he hasn't in a long time. He was only 15 years old when he first began graffiti. He was 23 years old when he spray-painted his now-famous tag on the wall. He was out of his artistic trance after finishing his tag with every delicacy included from the bubble letters and random shadows.

George was a well-known graffiti artist. Many people recognized him from his infamous 404 tags, which could be spotted practically anywhere in Los Angeles. Many people, particularly the police, were aware of his existence. The cops had caught on to George's repetitious tag that was strewn across the city's walls after he had been tagging for almost 9 years. After nearly a year of futility, the police department employed more officers to keep a watch out for a tagger tagging anything. Because almost no one knew about George's second existence, the police had no idea who was placing these inscriptions on their city's walls. So, the more taggings of his famed little 404 there were in Los Angeles, the less evidence the police force had on who he was.

He began to like tagging more after discovering that a group of police officers was aggressively seeking him around every corner. It gave George a rush of adrenaline, which he craved all the time. George wanted to keep tagging because of how covert he had to be. He was so enthralled by the excitement that he never considered getting arrested by the cops one day. He placed those feelings away to think about later, but for now, the euphoria of tagging was more enticing to him and his predicament.

George had completed yet another 404 tag on a massive wall after adding the final touches. He knew that the next day, several cops would gather around it to try to locate any evidence regarding who had written it. They never find anything, though, and George began to wonder whether they would ever stop hunting for him. Even while his reputation among Los Angeles residents was growing, he was unaware of the police force's feelings toward him. George considered turning himself in, hoping that doing so would clear his record. But he was too far in at this point in his life. Not only had he developed a tagging addiction, but he also knew that if he did give himself in, all he would wind up doing is being locked up after everything the cops had tried to figure out who this mysterious tagger was.

George departed the scene of his freshly painted graffiti, which was quickly drying in the chilly Los Angeles air. He was careful not to leave any discarded spray paints or nozzles that he had knocked down.
Everything he did was done with prudence.
He takes precautions in everything he does, from the spray paint he uses to where he tags. That's what happens when you get famous for doing something illegal.

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Tonight was unlike every other night. Dream's threatening demeanor was exacerbated by the chilly air. He'd been performing what he believed was a ridiculous job for almost 4 years and had yet to find out who the camouflaged 404 tagger was. His days were growing shorter and his nights were getting longer. He was aware that the tagger exclusively struck at night, contrary to the belief of the rest of the police force.

Dream was driving around the city's congested streets, looking for any strange activity. He was desperate to be the one to figure out who this strange tagger was.
He'd been doing this work for so long that he wanted to be the one to claim triumph. He went without sleep for days only to see if he could locate any evidence of who the tagger is. Yet, whether on foot or in a car, he never did anything strange when roaming the streets of Los Angeles. The only "suspicious" conduct he's witnessed at night was a homeless man jumping someone for peach rings outside a 7/11.
Dream had nearly become a nocturnal animal and was so used to simply being on duty at night that he acted as if it was nothing, although it was unlike his first night. His first night on the job was probably depressing. He'd been awake all day and would have to stay awake all night. He despised the fact that his job required him to pull all-nighters, but he quickly discovered a routine that allowed him to obtain the rest he needed for a job like this. He found comfort in his employment after establishing a routine. He was merely strolling about, looking for anything that could lead him to the probable 404 tagger. It felt like he was just going for a late-night stroll, which he used to do all the time when he was younger.