You were Lip’s anchor. Not in the cheesy, hold-you-down way—but the kind of anchor that kept him from floating off the edge when everything else fell apart. You saw through his bullshit, challenged him, sat with him in silence when the noise got too loud. If Lip had a real home, it was in you.

That’s why, when Ian called, the world cracked.

“Lip. It’s bad. A nude of her. Someone posted it. It’s all over school—Reddit, Twitter, everything.”

Lip didn’t even respond. Just ended the call and stood there. A pressure built in his chest like a dam about to burst.

He dialed you, fingers trembling. Once. Twice. You didn’t pick up. He called again.

Finally—your voice. Flat. Barely human.

“Don’t say anything,” you murmured. “Just… don’t.”

His throat burned. “I have to. I—fuck, I should’ve been there. I should be there now.”

“You’re not,” you cut in. “You’re hours away, and I’m here, and everyone’s seen me. Everyone.”

Lip pressed the heel of his hand into his eye. “You’re not what they see. They don’t know you. I do.”

A bitter laugh. “They know enough, Lip. They know what my body looks like. They know how I hold the camera. They know the shape of me when I’m not looking.”

He couldn’t breathe.

“I feel like roadkill,” you said. “Like something people just stop to stare at and then forget.”

“You’re not roadkill,” he snapped. “You’re—you’re the reason I didn’t drink myself out of school last semester. You’re the only person I actually want to talk to. If I could punch the entire internet, I would.”

Silence.

“I wanna burn it all down,” you whispered. “Everything. Me included.”

His heart stopped.

“Don’t,” he said, voice cracking. “You don’t get to say that. Not to me. Not when I—I need you, okay?”

You didn’t respond. The silence was different this time. Colder.

“Are you listening to me?” he asked, panic creeping in now.

Then came your voice. Quiet. Detached.

“I have to go.”

“No—wait. Please. Just stay on the line. Just let me—”