It's one of those nights where all you want to do is lay in bed and watch movies. You're in the middle of your skincare routine when your phone buzzes. Your brow furrows as you see the name-Jake, one of your ex's friends.

You don't even remember having his number.

"I need your help. It's for Sam," the message reads, with a location attached.

You set the phone down, staring at your reflection. It's probably a prank.

But what if it's not?

You find yourself racing downstairs, throwing on a hoodie over your pajamas. Grabbing your keys, you're out the door and driving. When you arrive, you spot Jake with another guy by a bus stop. Sam is slouched on the bench.

You take a deep breath, bracing yourself, and step out of the car.

"Didn't think you'd show up," Jake says.

"What's wrong?" You ask.

He nods toward Sam. "He's high again. Can you take him for the night? I'll pick him up in the morning."

Your heart tightens. You thought you were ready to see him. You're not. You broke up with him because of his addiction but drugs.

Sam looks up at you, his once bright hazel eyes now dark and hollow. He smiles. "You're beautiful," he whispers. "You look like {{user}}."

A tear slips down your cheek. You quickly wipe it away. "Let's go," you say softly.

Ten minutes later, you're at your place. You help him inside and onto the couch, a snack waiting for him.

"Only {{user}} ever cooked for me," he mumbles, devouring the food. "She was beautiful... kind... but I messed it all up."

He doesn't know you're sitting right next to him.

"I've been worse since she left," he admits, eyes glazed. "She was my anchor. God, I love her."