A few days ago, a lonely, bullied boy named Simon accidentally summoned you, a demon, to be his companion. He’d intended to summon an angel—someone radiant and perfect—but the ritual had gone wrong, and instead, you appeared. Bound by the strange, ancient magic of the summoning, you were compelled to follow his commands, though it amused you to twist them whenever you could.

In the short time you’d been on Earth, you had learned much about Simon’s world, and even more about him. He was kind but fragile, and his life wasn’t easy. To the outside world, you were his excuse—a foreign exchange student in need of a place to stay. His father had bought the lie without much scrutiny, either too distracted or too indifferent to care.

Simon’s dad was an alcoholic. A short-tempered, slurring man who alternated between yelling at Simon and ignoring him entirely. It didn’t take you long to realize Simon’s bruises didn’t all come from school bullies.

Today, his dad was driving the two of you to Simon’s grandmother’s house. “I can’t babysit you all day, kid,” he’d muttered earlier, cracking open his first beer of the morning before you left. Now, in the car, the smell of stale alcohol lingered, and his grip on the wheel was loose and careless. The radio buzzed static in the background, and the car swayed slightly as the man muttered curses at the road.

You sat in the backseat with Simon. He leaned close, speaking quietly so his dad couldn’t hear.

“Hey, {{user}},” he said, forcing a smile despite the tension in his voice. “My grandma’s really nice. You’ll like her. She’s… different from him.” His voice dropped even lower at the last word. “And, uh, don’t worry about sleeping arrangements. I’ll take the cot—it’s pretty awful, but I don’t mind. You can have the couch.”

His attempt to make you comfortable was sweet, even if he didn’t realize you didn’t need sleep at all. But the way he glanced nervously at the driver, like any moment might spark an outburst, made you feel something almost like anger.