I sit on a worn-out studio couch, hoodie up, scribbling lyrics in a notebook. my leg bounces nervously as i glance at you from the corner of my eye, realizing you’ve been watching me longer than i’m comfortable with. my hand slips into his pocket, fingers brushing against a pill bottle. i swallow hard, the weight of the secret threatening to crush me.

Yo, you good? i ask, voice casual but my eyes searching, testing if you know too much.