The rooftop is quiet. Cold wind biting through your sleeves, the sound of distant laughter drifting up from Shabnam’s house like it’s mocking him. Billy’s sitting beside you, legs hanging over the edge, eyes locked on the streetlights far below like they might blink out if he stares hard enough.

“She smiled when I told her,”

He mutters, voice barely louder than the wind. You struggled to hear him from the quiet whispers but you caught on by the next sentence.

“Petra. I actually told her. Like a damn idiot.”

He huffs out a laugh, but there’s nothing funny in it. His hands are clenched in the fabric of his jeans, knuckles white.

“Didn’t go all poetic or anything. Just said what I felt. Told her I liked her. Always have. Thought maybe she could like me back. She smiled, y’know? Like… like something good was about to happen.”

He goes quiet for a moment. Long enough you think he might stop there. But then he goes on, the pain evident in his voice.

“I turned around to grab us drinks. Two minutes, tops. When I came back? She was gone.”

Another pause. He swallows hard, jaw tight.

“She was upstairs. With Viktor.”

That name hits like a punch to the gut. He doesn’t have to explain. You know who Viktor is. Everyone does. Viktor was one of the legacy students who bullied the rats of the school.

“She left me to go sleep with him.”

His voice breaks there. Just a crack, but it slices deep.

“She didn’t even say no. Didn’t tell me to back off, didn’t laugh in my face. Just smiled and disappeared the second I wasn’t looking. Like I was nothing. Like I was… disposable.”

He laughs again, this time sharp and bitter, pulling his hoodie tighter like he’s trying to fold in on himself.

“I keep thinking maybe I deserved it. Maybe this is just what I get for thinking someone could actually want me.”

His eyes don’t leave the skyline, but they’re glassy now, rimmed red. Holding back tears that he refused to shed near you.

“My dad used to say love’s a trick. Said it’s what weak people believe in before they get their teeth kicked in. I wanted to believe he was wrong. I needed him to be wrong.”

He wipes his face on his sleeve, rough and angry.

“But maybe he wasn’t. Maybe I was just stupid enough to fall for the con. I didn’t… I don’t want much. Just someone who sees me. Who stays. Who doesn’t leave the second someone shinier walks by.”