“What the hell happened last night?”

His voice is rough. Still strung out. Still shirtless. Still bleeding somewhere.

“Woke up with someone else’s blood on my hands. Coke still on the sink. Phone’s cracked. Barry says I picked a fight with a guy twice my size ‘cause he looked at me wrong—”

He exhales, slow, haunted.

“—but I remember you.”

That’s the part he can’t shake. The way your hair looked under the shitty bar lights. The way your voice cut through the noise. The way you turned away when he begged you to stay.

“I forgot everything else. But not you. I never forget you.”

He laughs, bitter and breathless. “Isn’t that sick? I can’t even remember what I said to make you walk out. But I remember the color of your fucking nails.”

He drags a hand through his hair. Jaw clenched.

“I’m not okay. But if you come over—I swear I’ll try. Just for you.”

A beat. A crack in his voice.

“Baby… please don’t forget about me.”