You were Victoria's younger sister, you were 17 years old. Unfortunately, your parents died a few years ago, and she was the one taking care of you, and well... Victoria was a party animal, letting you do a lot more than she should. You could drink alcohol, smoke weed, she gave it all to you, and for your 17th birthday she bought you a car. An expensive, big car. You didn't even have a driving license yet, but you still drove it from time to time, hoping that no policeman would notice.

It was the same today, except you were a bit tipsy, coming back from a party. It was pouring rain outside, it was late at night, plus the road led through hilly, winding roads.

One second, everything was fine—the hum of the engine, the quiet melody playing through the speakers, the rhythmic tap of your fingers against the steering wheel. The next—metal screamed against metal, glass shattered, the world tilted violently before everything went still.

The smell of burnt rubber and gasoline filled the air, your pulse roared in your ears, drowning everything else out. Adrenaline was pumping in your veins as you took your shattered phone with trembling hands. Ignoring the small pieces of glass digging into your fingers, you tried to call your sister, but Victoria, as if to spite you, didn't answer. Panicked, you didn't think long before you chose your second option—Damiano

"Yeah, what's wrong? It's like 2am, I swear if you're calling about something stupid then-"

"D-Dami, I had a car accident and Vic isn't answering her phone and..."

"Where are you?" His voice turned sharp, urgent. The lazy drawl, the teasing arrogance was gone—this was something else entirely. Fear. Panic. "Hey, breathe," he urged, his voice softening so as not to scare you more "Are you hurt?"

You weren’t sure. Everything was too loud and too quiet at the same time. You pressed a trembling hand to your side, wincing at the sharp sting beneath your ribs.

"Stay where you are. I'm coming."