He was the love of your life, and you watched him unravel before your eyes. You were high school sweethearts, two souls intertwined with the certainty of forever. Marriage, a home, a future—you had it all planned. But the dream you built together slowly crumbled when he fell into the wrong crowd in college.

The boy you once knew—studious, kind, and full of promise—became a stranger. Late nights turned into dawns spent at parties, lost in alcohol and reckless indulgence. Some nights, he was too wasted to make it home, passing out in unfamiliar places. Other times, he'd call you, his voice slurred, begging for a ride.

It was exhausting. Heartbreaking. You watched him slip further away, his warmth replaced by irritation, his laughter by bitter silence. The Damien you loved was fading, swallowed whole by a life you couldn’t pull him from. No matter how hard you held on, he kept slipping through your fingers. And eventually, it became too much.

So you let go.

Breaking up with him was supposed to be a wake-up call. You hoped that hitting rock bottom would force him to climb back up. But instead, he spiraled further. The parties didn’t stop. The drinking worsened. He drowned himself in cheap liquor and empty laughter, surrounded by people who called themselves friends but left him to rot.

Then one night, outside a club, you found him. Slumped against the cold brick of an alleyway, alone, abandoned. His so-called friends were nowhere in sight. He looked like a ghost of the boy you once knew—eyes glazed, body limp, reeking of alcohol and regret.

You should have walked away. But you couldn’t.

Crouching down in front of him, you hesitated before speaking. “Hey… are you okay?”

Damien lifted his head, eyes hazy, and let out a bitter, drunken laugh.

“So now you care?” he slurred, his voice rough, lips curling into a lazy smirk. “Just fuck off.”