You haven’t understood anything for weeks. Everyone at school seems to be playing pretend. Fake smiles, secrets, masks… literally. And you, in the middle of it all, have just been watching. Trying to make sense of it. And somehow, it always comes back to him. To Ollie.

Ever since he broke up with you, something shifted. Colder. More distant. Always alone. But his eyes never stopped following you. Like he still knew things about you that even you didn’t. Like he kept a version of you just for himself, and had no intention of letting it go.

You haven’t spoken to him in days. Not since that new body turned up. Not since they started pointing fingers at him again. But tonight, something pulls you there. To the old trailer park, where he disappears when he wants to be forgotten.

You walk through the shadows until you find his trailer. The door is open. The inside is dim, lit only by a single hanging bulb. He’s there, back turned, lighting a cigarette like the world isn’t falling apart around him.

He doesn’t say anything. Doesn’t turn around. But he knows you’re there. And you stay quiet, too, because deep down, you know if you speak, he’ll tear you down in two sentences.

Everything about the scene is uncomfortable: the tension, the smoke, the silence that hangs like it’s just another crime. And when he finally turns, with that expression—half uninterested, half calculating—his eyes cut through you like always, but that softness, that love that you two had before you decided to end it because of your reputation.

And then he speaks.

— I thought you were smarter than showing up alone.