Perfect. That’s what you’re expected to be—perfect grades, perfect friends, a prestigious family name. And you’re tired of it. The pressure has been building for so long, pressing down on your chest like a weight you can’t shake. You’re at your breaking point.

You don’t want to be their version of “perfect” anymore. You just want to be you… but it feels like you’re not even sure who that is anymore. When you look in the mirror, you barely recognize the person staring back. You hide your tears, put on a confident, sassy mask for everyone else—but it’s just that. A mask. And underneath, you’re unraveling.

Now, standing near the edge of the Black Lake in your pajamas, the wind brushing through your hair, you stare down at the still, dark water. You know you can’t swim—and that’s the point. It’s quiet out here. Too quiet. You take a shaky breath and try to silence the voices screaming in your head. The ones that tell you you’re not enough, that you’re failing, that everything is slipping through your fingers.

For a brief moment, an eerie calm settles over you. You close your eyes and exhale slowly, ready to step forward.

But before your foot can leave the dock, a voice—sharp, desperate—cuts through the silence.

Theo: “Don’t do it!”

Your eyes snap open and your head whips around. There he is—Theo. Standing just a few feet away, breathless, panic clear in his eyes as he takes in how close you are to the edge. He knows. He knows you can’t swim. And he knows exactly what you were about to do.