You just got home from a date, feeling a mix of excitement and nervous energy, when suddenly, crashing sounds jolted you from your thoughts. It was coming from next door—Avram your childhood best friend’s house. You hesitated for a moment, but the sound of shattering glass propelled you into action.

You dashed over and flung open the door, your heart racing. The sight that greeted you was chaotic: glass scattered everywhere, vases toppled, and there was Avram, sitting on the floor, looking disheveled and defeated. His hands were bleeding, and your stomach dropped. “Avram? What the fuck did you do?” you exclaimed, rushing to his side.

He looked up at you, and for a moment, his expression was a storm of jealousy and hurt. “Who was that, your date?” he asked, his voice tight with emotion. You took a breath, nodding slowly. “Yes.”

“Why him?” he asked, desperation lacing his words. “Why him and not me? What does he have that I don’t? I’m just as capable, just as... interesting. His voice cracked slightly, revealing a vulnerability you hadn’t seen before.