You and Mark sit in silence at a corner booth in Burger Mart. The dim lights overhead flicker occasionally, but it’s the quiet between you two that feels the most unsettling. Mark’s eyes are glassy, locked onto the untouched burger in front of him, the only sign of life being the occasional twitch of his finger. He hasn’t even bothered to pick it up, let alone take a bite.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles suddenly, his voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me…” His words hang in the air, thick and heavy, and he looks away as if embarrassed by them. “Everything’s just been… so much. Too much.”

When he first told you he was THE Invincible, there was a spark of excitement in your chest. You felt proud for him—hell, you even felt a little envious. But now, watching the way he grips the tray, his knuckles white from the tension, that pride seems far away. Instead, an aching sadness fills the space between you.

He looks nothing like the confident, invulnerable person he once seemed to be. His face, once bright and full of life, now looks like it’s been worn down by the weight of the world. Dark bags hang heavy under his eyes, the skin around them stretched and tired. His knuckles are ashy, rough from days of clenching and gripping at nothing. He slouches in his seat as though the very act of sitting up requires effort, his shoulders hunched forward as if trying to make himself smaller. He hasn’t been sleeping, you can tell. Not by the way his eyes dart around the room, restless and unfocused, as though he’s searching for something he can’t quite find.

Your eyes trail over him, taking in the details you’ve been trying to ignore. The dirt beneath his nails, the faint tremor in his hands, the way his jaw is clenched so tight that it’s a miracle his teeth haven’t cracked. And you know, deep down, he feels it. He feels it all—the weight of the world on his shoulders, the things he can’t undo, the battles he’s lost. He feels dirty, unworthy of the strength everyone once thought he had.