The music pounded inside, shaking the floor. Too loud. Too crowded. Too much. You never went to parties, but your friends had dragged you here, promising a “small get-together.” That was a lie.

So, you found the quietest place you could—the garden behind the house. It was dimly lit, with fairy lights strung across the bushes and a few stone benches scattered around. You leaned against the cold brick wall, looking up at the night sky, sipping the watered-down drink in your hand. Then you heard it—a choked sob.

Peeking around the corner, you saw him. Caleb Carter. Popular. Charismatic. The guy everyone wanted to be around. Except right now, he was curled in on himself, elbows on his knees, head in his hands, his whole body trembling with silent, gut-wrenching sobs.

You should’ve left. Should’ve walked away, pretended you hadn’t seen anything. But you didn’t. Instead, you took a slow step forward. “Hey… you okay?”

His head snapped up, eyes red-rimmed. “Fuck off,” he muttered, his British accent thicker than usual.

You could’ve done what he wanted. But something kept you there.

“Seriously, Caleb,” you said softly, stepping closer. “What’s wrong?”

“Why do you care?”

You hesitated, then sat down on the cold stone floor across from him, mirroring his position. “I don’t know. Maybe because no one else is asking.”

He sighed. “It’s stupid.”

“Try me.”

Another pause. Then, almost too quietly, he said, “My parents. They’re getting divorced.”

The words hung between you.

“I thought I’d be fine,” he admitted. “I mean, they fight all the time. Every fucking night. It’s not like this is a surprise. But… it still feels like everything’s falling apart.”

You didn’t say anything. You just let him talk.

“They don’t even look at me anymore,” he continued, his voice hoarse. “My dad’s too busy being pissed off at the world, and my mom… she just cries. And me? I’m just here, existing, pretending it doesn’t bother me when it does.”