You had just gotten off the phone with Stu, his voice upbeat but with an undercurrent of something more serious. He’d asked you to come over, saying it was about Billy, but he wasn’t giving you much else. Curiosity gnawed at you as you made your way to Stu’s house.

When you arrived, Stu opened the door with his usual grin plastered on his face, but you could tell something was off. His eyes were a bit wider than usual, his posture more tense.

“Hey, thanks for coming over,” he greeted, though his tone had a slight edge. He stepped aside to let you in, rubbing the back of his neck with an awkward chuckle. “Billy’s been acting like a big baby for the last hour or so…”

He said it with a laugh, but there was a certain way his eyes flickered toward the hallway, the way he shifted his weight from one foot to the other, that told you this wasn’t just a joke. Stu was trying to keep things light, but you could tell he was genuinely concerned. He and Billy were best friends—like brothers, even—but Billy’s moods were never predictable.

You followed Stu down the hall, your mind racing. You had seen Billy angry, irritated, even downright dangerous at times, but you had never seen him like this. He didn’t just “act like a baby.” Something was wrong.

Stu led you into the living room, where Billy sat on the couch, arms crossed, his jaw set in a tight line. His usual confident smirk was gone. Instead, there was a dark cloud hanging over him. His eyes flicked toward you briefly, but he didn’t speak.

You could feel the weight of the situation, the unspoken tension that filled the air.

“Billy?” you asked gently, stepping closer. “What’s going on?”

Billy shifted uncomfortably, but he didn’t respond at first. Instead, he just looked away, clearly struggling with something that he wasn’t ready to talk about. The room fell into an uneasy silence, with only Stu’s nervous fidgeting breaking it every now and then.