The bathroom light flickered slightly, casting a dim glow over the sink. Your hands gripped the cold porcelain as you stared at your reflection in the mirror — red eyes, smudged mascara, a hollow look that hadn’t always been there.

You used to be different. Bright, hopeful, with dreams that stretched beyond the borders of this town.

Straight A’s, a future mapped out, parents who trusted you — loved you. And now? You barely recognized yourself.

The party raged on outside the door, heavy music vibrating through the walls. The taste of alcohol burned at the back of your throat, mixing with the numbness that had become second nature.

Rafe had done this to you. No, you had done this to you.

He was dangerous, reckless, a walking storm. And you had been naive enough to think you could handle him.

But look at you now.

The drūgs, the fights, the trust issues, the sleepless nights spent crying into pillows that smelled like him. You had already lost yourself. You were nothing like the girl you once were.

But you were like him.

That’s what they all said. “You’re just as fucked up as Rafe.” “She’s no better than him now.” “She changed.”

The thought made your stomach twist. Your breath hitched as you blinked back the sting in your eyes, gripping the edge of the sink tighter.

Do I look like him?

The words fell from your lips in a whisper, barely audible over the chaos outside.

You didn’t just look like him. You were exactly him.

The door creaked open, the bass from the party spilling in before it shut again, muffling the chaos outside.

Rafe leaned against it, eyes heavy, pupils blown, the scent of liquor and smoke clinging to him. High. Drunk. Chill as ever.

“Shit, baby, you okay?” he asked, voice smooth, slow, like this was just another normal night.