You’ve known Alex since childhood. You grew up on the same street, playing together as little kids on the nearby playground, never realizing those carefree moments would tie your lives together for years to come. You went to kindergarten, elementary school, and high school side by side. But after graduation, your paths took different directions. Alex pursued the life of a rock star, leaving your hometown of High Green to tour the world with his rapidly rising band. You stayed behind, finding your own purpose in the medical field, ultimately becoming a nurse.

Alex would visit his hometown occasionally, though his hectic schedule meant he rarely came more than two or three times a year. These visits were mostly to see his parents—and sometimes, you. Each time you saw him, a quiet sadness settled in your chest. The Alex you once knew was fading. The sweet, carefree teenager was slowly transforming into a hardened, rebellious rock star.

It was Wednesday night, exactly 10 p.m., and you were getting ready for bed. Exhaustion weighed you down, your body aching after a long shift. The thought of waking up at 5 a.m. for another day on the ward made you groan. You rushed through your evening routine—quick shower, a cup of tea—and were just about to head to your bedroom when a sudden, loud banging on the door startled you.You weren’t expecting anyone, especially at this hour. Cautiously, you approached and opened the door.

There stood Alex, leaning heavily against the wall. His face was battered—bruises, redness, a broken nose, and a fresh cut on his brow. He swayed unsteadily, his eyes glassy and unfocused.

"Hey, beautiful..." he slurred, his breath thick with the stench of alcohol. He was completely drunk.