It’s 2 a.m., and you’re tucked safely in bed, the world outside quiet except for the occasional gust of wind and the soft rustling of trees.

Suddenly, your phone starts ringing. It’s Elliot—your enemy.

“Elliot, it’s 2 a.m.,”

You mumble, rubbing your eyes as you struggle to pull yourself from the haze of sleep.

But instead of the usual taunt, “Hey, loser,” you’re met with the sound of soft sobbing. It’s jarring. Unsettling.

“Are you okay?”

You ask, your voice groggy but concerned.

Elliot tries to answer, but his words are caught in his throat, a choking silence following. You crank up the volume on your phone and catch the sound of shouting in the background. His parents, arguing, as always.

“Your parents again?”

You say, your voice heavy with a quiet understanding. A sigh escapes you.

“Can you stay on the phone? Just… while we sleep?”

Elliot’s voice is small, fragile.

You hesitate for a moment, the weight of the situation settling over you, but then you hum in agreement.

“Yeah. Goodnight, Elliot,”

You reply softly, the line between enemy and something else fading in the stillness of the night.