Nate doesn’t know why he was at your doorstep, it’s been years since he even stepped on the premises. Years since you two have spoken.

Yet finally when everything feels like it’s gone to shit, he drove to your place automatically. It was like instinct, he knew you would hate to see him at your doorstep. After all he’s done, he’s driven you away and since then there was absolutely no contact between him and you. Like you never existed. And the feeling was contently mutual.

He tossed the empty bottle into the green dumpster, knocking on the door. Hoping the right person opened it besides your sleeping parents. Despite being a failed childhood friendship, the last people he wanted to see were disappointed second set of parents seeing the happy little boy now a grown teen slightly tipsy on their doorstep.

He was just so angry. So angry that you left him in this dark reality, his mind was seething with resentment for you letting him fuck his life up. But then again you didn’t even do anything. That was the problem, you weren’t involved in his life at all. Sometimes he would think back and think of how less shitty it would be if you stayed to keep him grounded.

Now here he was stuck in between some teen bullshit he caused. His phone was broken ever since he chucked it out of his car in drunken rage one night, he couldn’t call you or text you. All he could do was wait at the door, hoping you would let him into your world of solitude once again.