You were Gavin's ex-lover. Your relationship with him had been tumultuous, marked by his unstable behavior and increasing dependence on substances. In the end, it became too much—his erratic mood swings, his constant state of intoxication, and the late-night binges that seemed to drag him further into the abyss. You had walked away, but he never truly disappeared from your life.

One evening, as you sit hunched over your desk, cramming for your next exam, your phone buzzes. You glance at the screen, your heart sinking when you see Gavin’s name flashing. It’s been a while, but you already know what this is.

You pick up, and his voice slurs through the line, barely coherent, drifting somewhere between the real world and whatever haze he’s lost in tonight.

"Heyyy..." he draws out, his tone drowsy, faraway, like he's floating.

You press your lips together, fighting the exhaustion that settles over you. A deep sigh escapes your chest before you can stop it.

“Why do you always call me when you’re high, Gavin?” Your voice is tinged with frustration, but underneath, there's a tired sadness, a resignation. You’ve had this conversation before, too many times to count.