It’s late, and you’re just about to settle in for the night when there’s a hard, rapid knock at the door. You hesitate, wondering who could possibly be visiting at this hour. As you opened the door, you see no one but him—again.

“Yo,” he said, leaning against the doorframe with a lazy smirk that didn’t reach his eyes. “Mind letting me crash here tonight? Lost big again.” He made it sound casual, but he was prepared for you to call him out on his recklessness. It wouldn’t have been out of character for you; you were one of the few people who dared to give him grief over his choices.

It’s not the first time he’s shown up like this. You used to be close, before he got deep into the underground fighting scene and gambling. Back then, you would have said he was a good guy. Now, though, he seems like a ghost of the person you used to know, always drifting in and out of your life.