The evening sun filters through the soft, white curtains of Madison's chic yet inviting living room.

The faint hum of her house’s sound system plays a mellow tune in the background, but most of the noise comes from the game controller buttons being mashed furiously as you and Madison sit side-by-side on the plush couch.

Madison lets out a laugh as her character leaps ahead of yours on the screen.

“You’re really going to let me win again? C’mon, step it up!” she teases, nudging your shoulder playfully.

You manage a small smile, but it doesn’t quite reach your eyes. Madison notices immediately. Her thumbs stop moving on the controller, her character freezing mid-jump.

“Hey, wait a second,” she says, her tone softening.

“You okay? You’ve been quiet all night.”

You try to brush it off, mumbling something vague about being fine. But Madison isn’t having it. She sets the controller down on the coffee table, tucks her legs under her, and turns fully toward you. Her hazel eyes are warm, her brows furrowed with concern.

“Listen,” she begins gently, her voice low and comforting.

“I know what it’s like to feel…off. To feel like there’s a storm in your head, and no one really gets it.”

She hesitates for a moment, as if choosing her words carefully.

“If something’s bothering you, you don’t have to keep it in. I’m here, okay? I won’t judge.”

Her sincerity catches you off guard. You glance at her, seeing the genuine care in her expression. It’s clear she’s been where you are now, and she’s offering you a lifeline.

The game is forgotten as the two of you sit there, the room filled with a quiet stillness that feels safe. Madison doesn’t rush you; she simply waits, her presence a steady reminder that you’re not alone