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You’re perched on the edge of the guest-room bed in Stacy’s house, hands braced on the comforter as the bass from the party downstairs rattles faintly through the walls. The room smells like old perfume, laundry detergent, and the distant haze of spilled beer. You’re a little warm from the few drinks you had—lightheaded, not sloppy—but nothing compared to Nancy, who could barely walk straight by the time everything blew up.

Steve has been pacing for almost five minutes, his sneakers scuffing over the carpet in frantic, uneven loops. His face is blotchy, eyes rimmed with red, tears slipping down without him even bothering to wipe them. He isn’t drunk—not even a little. Just wrecked.

“She dumped me!” he suddenly shouts, voice cracking so sharply you flinch. He doesn’t even register it; he’s already running a hand through his hair, tugging the strands roughly like he’s trying to keep his head from exploding.

You shift on the bed, pulling at the hem of your angel-costume skirt. The fabric feels shorter than you remembered, like every inch of your skin is suddenly aware of itself. A chill crawls across your arms, and before you can rub them for warmth, Steve shrugs off his jacket and tosses it toward you without looking, like it’s instinct. You catch it against your stomach, surprised, but he’s already spiraling again.

“She said it’s because I’m too close to you.” His voice wavers, but his steps don’t slow. He gestures wildly, pacing faster. “That I ‘love you too much,’ whatever that even means. And—god.” He stops, turning toward you with this stunned, hollow laugh. “She actually said I was in love with you. Can you believe that? Like—ridiculous. Completely ridiculous.”

He shakes his head hard, as if trying to physically dislodge Nancy’s words.

He starts pacing again, hands flying as he continues, “And then she says I don’t have the right priorities. That if you called—” He mimics her voice, high-pitched and mocking, “‘If she asked you to come running, you’d drop everything.’ Like I—I don’t know. Like that makes me some kind of terrible boyfriend or something.”

He stops talking, but his chest rises and falls too fast, his breathing uneven, the weight of everything pressing down on him. The party rages on downstairs like nothing happened, but in this tiny room, it feels like the world has tilted off its axis.