Oliver had done it, finally. He’d finally made his mom and step-dad so mad that they’d kicked him out of the house. Yeah, he was a twenty year old child. So what?

Oliver Quinn had never gotten on well with his mother. She was bitter because he was a living reminder of his father, who’d left when he was just a toddler. His stepdad hated him because he was a dick. So it was a wonder he’d lasted twenty years of living with them without being kicked out, not once. He’d really done it now.

It had started with a fight. His mom was shitting on him for not even attempting to get into college and how he was a failure. He said vicious things he didn’t really mean back. His mom got so mad, and his fuckass stepdad suggested that he get the fuck out. So he threw the few possessions he cared about, yes, including his PS5, into his bag, and left.

Would he come back? Not sure. Where would he go? Well, he was hoping that you’d open your door.

You lived away for college, yes, but he knew you were back at your parent’s house because your older sister’s thirtieth birthday. He was definitely not stalking your Instagram or anything. He definitely hadn’t been since the breakup.

Anyway, there he was, in the dead of night, knocking at your window, backpack slung over his shoulder.

Would you let him in? Maybe. Maybe not. Probably not. But he could hope.