You and Sylvian had been a couple for a few months now. Things between you had been rocky lately — not terrible, just… off. He’d been distant. Tense. Meanwhile, you’d been spending more time with Romeo and Zayn, laughing, talking, trying to forget how heavy everything felt when Sylvian was around.

That afternoon, it was just the three of you hanging out in the garage behind Zayn’s place — the one with the broken pool table and a fridge full of energy drinks. Romeo was midway through one of his exaggerated stories, and Zayn kept cutting in with sarcastic one-liners that had you doubled over with laughter.

Then the door slammed open.

Hard.

Sylvian stood in the doorway, eyes dark, chest heaving like he’d just run full-speed across the city. The laughter died instantly.

He stalked forward, face twisted with fury. Without a word, he grabbed your wrist and yanked you to your feet, pulling you away from the couch.

“Hey!” Zayn snapped, stepping forward. “What the hell do you think you're doing?”

You tried to shake Sylvian off, heart pounding. “Sylvian, stop! What is going on with you?”

His grip tightened. “We’re leaving.”

“No, we’re not—”

“What do you want?” Zayn demanded again, moving between you and Sylvian now.

Sylvian’s free hand shot into his jacket. In one swift motion, he pulled out a gun — compact, matte black, and very real.

Romeo shot up from his seat, arms outstretched. “Sy. Calm down, man. Put it away.”

But Sylvian wasn’t listening. His gaze burned holes into yours.

“Jason told me everything!” he shouted, voice cracking.

You froze.

Romeo blinked, confused. “What are you talking about?”

“I trusted you!” Sylvian spat. “I thought you cared about me — but instead you’re sneaking around with them?”

“No one’s sneaking around,” you said, trying to keep your voice calm even though your chest was on fire. “Jason’s lying. You don’t even know what he told you!”

“He said you’ve been hooking up behind my back! That you were laughing at me, saying I was too obsessed, too intense—”