The sting of his betrayal still sits heavily on your heart, like a cold lump of lead, weighing down the place where you’d stored your affection for that idiot. That—that traitor.

As you sit on the rooftop of that abandoned building—the one you’d spent hours on with him, sitting and talking and laughing—you feel tears prick at your eyes, as that familiar wave of anger seeps through every pore of your body, right to your heart, as if to cement the lead into it’s place some more.

It’s almost like someone’s playing a cruel prank on you. For a moment, you think you’d simply imagined the voice of the man you’d once loved from behind you. But, there it is again. “{{user}}.” He repeats. You hadn’t heard him the first time. “Don’t shoot, yeah? ‘S just me. Listen, I got.. got a proposition for ya, if you’re interested in leaving your boy band of sissies behind for a real job.”