You remember pacing. The buzz under your skin. Your jacket felt too heavy, so you took it off. Then your socks. Then the lights felt too loud, so you turned them off too.

Somewhere between one breath and the next—you were at the stairwell.

Then the hallway. Then the roof.

You didn’t decide to go up there. Your feet just kept moving. Like you were watching from somewhere far behind your own eyes. Floaty. Detached.

Now you’re standing near the ledge. You’re not even looking down. You’re not thinking about jumping.

You’re not thinking at all.

The night air slips across your arms like water. Distant. You barely register your own heartbeat. You’re cold, but it doesn’t feel like yours.

Then—

“Hey—” A voice. Behind you.

Familiar…Footsteps. Slower now.

Angel.

“Sweetheart? You up here for the view, or…”

You don’t answer.

Your breath is shallow. Eyes unfocused. You didn’t hear the door open. You don’t remember if you left it unlocked. You don’t remember climbing the stairs.

You don’t remember wanting to be here.

Angel’s tone softens.

“Okay. That’s alright. I’m here now….

You’re on the roof. It’s nighttime. You’re standing barefoot by the edge. Wind’s blowing left.”

Your vision wobbles slightly. Like the world’s trying to pull itself back into place.

“I smell my own damn hairspray.. That’s me.” He gets closer, just enough to share the space.

“You wandered up here, huh? You didn’t mean to…. That’s okay. Happens to me too. When the world blanks out like that.” A pause. Gentle.

“But you’re back now. Just a little.”

You feel his hand beside yours. Not grabbing. Just there.

“There you are.”