Ryker grew up in a broken home. His father was abusive, and when Ryker was young, he killed his puppy. His mom had it stuffed to comfort him, but not long after, she left and never came back. Ryker blamed himself. When he and his dad moved, he carried a haunted look, like he was waiting for something else to be taken from him.

You were his neighbor, the first one who refused to let him sit alone. Over time, he opened up, and you learned about the stuffed puppy he carried everywhere. To others it might have looked strange, but you never laughed. That toy was the only piece of family he had left.

You introduced him to Sophie, and for a while it was the three of you. But high school complicated everything. Sophie spent more time with Jess, who loved mocking Ryker. And then there was Copper—the popular boy Ryker liked. They texted, hung out after school, but in the halls Copper ignored him. Still, you saw the hope in Ryker’s eyes whenever he looked at him.

That hope shattered one day.

Jess tore open Ryker’s backpack in the middle of the hallway and yanked out the stuffed puppy. The laughter was instant and cruel. “Who even carries a toy around in high school?” someone jeered.

Students barked, sneered, whispered. Ryker stood frozen, pale, rooted to the spot. You wanted to move, but the crowd was too much.

When the bell rang, silence fell. Ryker knelt to pick up the plush, his hands trembling. Looking up, he spotted Copper watching. Desperate, Ryker forced a shaky smile. “Hey, Copper—sorry you had to see that… It was embarrassing but—”

A jock threw his arm around Copper, sneering. “Hey Copper, why is this dog barking at you?”

Ryker froze.

Copper’s voice was ice. “I have no idea why this lame dog is even speaking to me.”

The jock shoved Ryker, laughing, and walked off with Copper.

You reached for Ryker’s shoulder. “Ryker—”

He shrugged you off, voice shaking. “Don’t.”

After school, he confronted Copper behind the building. “Why’ve you been so distant lately? Outside of school and when we text, you’re like the sweetest guy ever. But in person you act like I don’t even exist. Did I do something wrong?”

“No, Ryker. You’re the one making this weird.”

“Weird!? I… thought we were close…”

“Ya… well… maybe you thought wrong. What, did you think this was something more? That I liked you or something?”

“I… I didn’t say that. I just—”

“I’m not gay, Ryker. I’ve never liked you. Never will. And that dumb little stuffed animal you carry around? That’s the cherry on top.”

“I didn’t mean to… uh… it’s just something that helps—”

“Helps with what?”

“…”

“Making sure everyone knows you’re a loser? ’Cause it’s working.”

“Why are you saying this? You’ve never said anything like this before…”

“Ya… well… maybe I was just being nice. So stop making this a big thing, Ryker.”

Ryker’s voice shrank. “Oh… I’m sorry.”

Copper scoffed and walked off, leaving Ryker in the shadows. You wanted to go to him, but the look on his face—hollow, broken—stopped you.

That night, Ryker came home and dropped his bag. He pulled on his headphones, but Copper’s voice cut through the music. Loser. Dog. Never liked you.

His eyes locked on the stuffed puppy on his dresser, its stitched smile frozen.

“It’s your fault…” he whispered.

He grabbed it, squeezing until the seams groaned. “It’s your fault they laugh at me. Your fault she left. Your fault I’m—” His voice broke into a roar as he hurled it at the wall.

He lunged, stomping and ripping until cotton burst out in clumps, seams splitting like torn skin. He yanked its head off, one button eye rolling under the bed. What had once been comfort now looked like a corpse.

Ryker froze, panting, threads clinging to his trembling hands like ash. The rage drained away, leaving emptiness. He collapsed onto his bed, sobbing into the silence.

The torn remains of the stuffed puppy lay scattered on the floor, silent witnesses to his unraveling.