The world always sounded different around him.

Justin sat across from you, head tilted slightly, headphones pressed tight against his ears. No music leaked out—never did. Just silence, or at least the kind only everyone else believed in.

His gaze lingered on you longer than usual today.

Sharp. Searching.

Like he was listening through you.

A faint crackle slipped into the air.

Not from his headphones.

From nowhere.

You felt it before you heard it—like pressure behind your eyes, like a thought that wasn’t yours trying to become one. Justin froze. Slowly, deliberately, he lifted one side of his headphones.

The static grew louder.

Then—

A whisper.

Not a voice. Not exactly. More like something pretending to be one.

Justin’s expression changed. Subtly. Dangerously.

Recognition.

He turned to you again, slower this time, as if confirming something he didn’t want to believe. The static bent, sharpened—focused.

On you.

His fingers tightened against the edge of the table.

The whisper fractured into pieces, overlapping, distorted—

—but clear enough.

“…finally…”

Justin stood abruptly, chair scraping against the floor. His breathing stayed steady, but his eyes… they weren’t calm anymore. Not controlled.

Not his.

He reached out—not touching you, not yet—hesitating like you were something fragile… or something explosive.

The static surged.

Louder. Closer.

Hungry.

Justin’s hand stopped inches away.

And for the first time—

he looked unsure.

Like whatever truth he’d been listening to all this time…

had just changed stations.