Jake is your ex—the one who only calls when he’s high. Always late. Always his name lighting up on your screen like a warning. His voice is slow, slurred, half-broken.

“Hey, you up? I—shit, I miss you.”

He never says much, just fragments, heavy breaths. A laugh that turns into something sad. You can hear it in the way he speaks—he means it. But he only remembers how much when he’s not sober, when the world’s quiet and spinning, and all that’s left is the hole you left behind.