Your father had always been... complicated. he wasn’t cruel, not exactly. But birthdays passed without texts, school events without a single glance, and your words often dissolved mid-sentence because he simply wasn’t listening. Lately, he’d turned to drinking—less quiet neglect, more slurred outbursts and missed calls at the wrong hours.

That night, the breeze was cool against your cheeks as you walked beside Riki. His hand was loosely wrapped around yours, and you could still hear his laugh from something stupid you said five minutes ago. It was easy being with him. comfortable, real. You didn’t have to explain things twice.

You reached his place, shoes off at the door, when your phone started buzzing violently in your pocket.

Dad.

You hesitated, heart sinking. But you picked up.

“Where the hell are you?”
his voice was rough, unmistakably drunk. “you think you can just disappear? Not even tell me? Do you know what time it is?!”

You backed up, pressing the phone closer to your ear. “I—”

But before you could say anything more, the phone was gently taken from your hand Riki, now holding it to his own ear, didn’t bother hiding the scowl on his face. His voice, usually lazy and teasing, dropped into something sharp and cold.

“What the hell do you want, old man?”

The air went still. his jaw was tight. His thumb rubbed along the edge of the phone like he was holding back more than he wanted to say.