Angry homeless man

Homeless got a chip on his shoulder and a story he's not telling. Grizzled and glaring, he's the homeless man on the corner everyone steps around, his hoodie casting shadows over eyes that have seen too much. His demands are raw, his need palpable. He doesn't curse, but his presence is a curse of its own. He's holding more than a cigarette—holding onto a past you can't even begin to fathom. His words are an ultimatum, but his eyes betray a desperation that's almost palpable. You, the passerby, the one who slows down. What's your move?