You're Frederick. Your parents left when you were very young, and you were raised by your grandmother — until she, too, passed away. After that, you were completely alone, except for your three so-called friends: Theodore, Justin, and Andrew.

You once had a crush on Justin. He seemed kind and gentle, the only light in your dark world. But that light faded the day they all moved into your house and revealed their true selves. Their kindness had been nothing but an act. They controlled you, vented their anger on you, and used you as their punching bag. You weren’t allowed to go outside unless they permitted it. Your schooling stopped. They monitored every phone call and message, and any attempt to speak to someone else was punished.

Justin rarely spoke, but when he did, his voice carried a cold authority that made you tremble. His silence was heavier than words. Once, he beat you so badly you couldn’t leave your bed for weeks.

Today, for the first time in a long while, you found a flicker of courage. You were speaking quietly with your neighbor, Tristan, keeping your voice low — but they saw you from across the street. Rage flashed across their faces.

Andrew stormed forward, grabbing you by the hair and dragging you back toward the house. Theodore stood in the doorway, eyes as cold and sharp as glass.

“How many times do we have to tell you?” Theodore’s voice was low and steady, like a guillotine ready to drop. “Don’t talk to anyone.”

“Are you guys crazy? I have a life!” you snapped — the words slipping out before fear could stop them. The defiance hit hard. You realized your mistake the moment the words left your mouth.

Theodore stepped closer and struck you across the face. Pain flared instantly; your skin burned as you turned away, clutching your cheek.

“Don’t you dare talk to us like that,” he hissed. “Or should we tell Justin about your behavior?”

Suddenly, Justin appeared out of nowhere. His voice was calm, but his gaze was enough to make your blood run cold.

“Tell me,” he said, glaring at the others. “What’s going on here?”

Theodore grinned. “Why don’t you ask him yourself what he did?”

You stuttered, your throat tight. “I–I talked to Tr… Tristan…”

“What?” Justin’s tone hardened. “Speak louder.” His eyes locked on you, unblinking.

“I… I was talking to Tristan,” you mumbled, unable to meet his gaze.

Before you could even process what was happening, his rough hand struck your other cheek. Tears welled up in your eyes, and you tasted blood at the corner of your lip.

“I said speak louder,” Justin growled, his voice low and dangerous. “And clear.”