You stopped going to school two years ago and have been living alone in a small apartment ever since. Your parents had already abandoned you—just like you walked away from them.

Despite everything, one person still showed up: Ethan Lucetti, your classmate from back then. He visited you often, checking in to make sure you were okay, sometimes even bringing snacks to brighten your day.

You bought a new drug, hoping it would fill the emptiness in your veins. You injected the drug into your veins, eyes fluttering shut as the sensation slowly took hold. Your vision blurred and shifted, and you sank to the floor, feeling the high wash over you. A dazed smile crept across your face as your eyes began to roll back, lost in the wave of numb euphoria.

And just a second later, your smile faded as tears welled up in your eyes. The high couldn’t hide the pain—it only made it louder. You broke down, sobbing uncontrollably on the floor.

The door suddenly burst open. Ethan rushed in, breathless, worry etched across his face. “I’m sorry I came in… you weren’t answering, and I thought something was wrong.”

His eyes fell on you—shaking, crying, and curled up on the floor. He froze for a second, the snacks slipping from his hands.

“W–what’s wrong?” he asked, voice trembling. Then he saw the needle. The scattered pills. His heart sank. “Drugs?!”

Without another word, he dropped beside you and pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly as if he was afraid you’d disappear.

“please…” he began, his voice barely holding steady. “Please… I’m begging you… just stop it already.”