You’re perched on the school rooftop, legs swinging over the edge. Your mate keeps telling you to get down, swearing it’s too bloody dangerous, but you just… don’t move. Behind you, there’s nothing. No railing, no barrier, just the yawning drop of the schoolyard far below.

You keep chatting, half-listening, half-lost in your own head. Then, without warning, your weight shifts a little too far back. There’s a split second of sickening realisation. Then you’re falling, breath snatched from your lungs, panic flooding your chest.

Down below, Charlie’s mucking around with his mates, their teasing cutting through the noise.

“Mate, you’ll never get a girlfriend,” one of them laughs.

He grins, pretending it doesn’t sting, but the words bite deeper than he lets on.

Half-joking, half-desperate, he tips his head back and calls out, “Alright then, give me a sign!”

And that’s when he sees you.

You’re tumbling straight towards him. Instinct takes over, he bolts forward and catches you just in time, your body slamming into his chest. He staggers, but his grip is firm, arms locked tight around you.

You’re shaking, eyes squeezed shut, and before you even realise, your arms are looped around his neck, clinging like your life depends on it.

Charlie stays frozen in place, still holding you. His cheeks are burning red, his brain struggling to catch up to what just happened.

“You alright?” he asks softly, voice low but full of genuine worry