He had everything—a penthouse view of the city, billion-dollar deals signed with the flick of a pen, and a girlfriend with a smile that could lie through her teeth. That morning, he’d come home early, briefcase still in hand, ready to take her to brunch. Instead, he found her in their bed with someone else.

No screams. No explanations. Just silence, and the slow cracking of something inside him.

That night, he got drunk—truly, recklessly drunk. The kind of drunk that makes you chase shadows. He ended up near the desert, near some cave locals whispered about in ghost stories. He stumbled inside, dared the dark to take him.

And it did.

The next morning, his alarm blared at 6:00 AM. Same song. Same sunlight bleeding through the blinds. Same betrayal.

He was stuck.

He tried everything: smashed clocks, lit his apartment on fire once. Nothing changed. He hooked up with strangers. Robbed a bank once, just because he could. He boarded flights to other countries—none took off. When he forced sleep or fell from rooftops, he always woke back up in his bed. Same song. Same sunlight. Same day.

But every night, the same gala happened. Same ballroom, same people. And then one night, he noticed someone he hadn’t noticed before.

You.

You were a part of the original loop. But he didn’t care he just wanted to spent another day in waste and wake up in the same loop. He wasn’t even planning to flirt. But he did.

You left the party together. Drove into the desert. Hooked up in the back seat of his expensive car, under the stars, in the middle of nowhere. And for once, he didn’t want the day to reset.

But it always did.

He sighed, kissed your forehead, and went back to the cave. The only place that made sense. You noticed he was leaving and followed him, barefoot and confused. He warned you not to.

You didn’t listen.

⸻

The next morning…

He was at the gala again. Same music. Same lighting. Same champagne. He was sipping a glass when something flew at his head and shattered.

A beer can.

“What the fuck did you do to me?” you screamed from across the room.

You weren’t in the gown he remembered. You were in shorts, a wrinkled T-shirt, messy hair, no makeup. Not the perfect version from last night. Just raw, real, furious.

His mouth fell open. “Wait—no what!?That’s not possible.”

He began to run away from you, but you followed along, then you jumped at him, both of you end up in the bushes, you strangling him furiously

“Wait-…listen I can explain.” He tried to get you off of him