The gymnasium is empty. It’s late—too late for anyone to still be here, but you are, and so is he. The only light comes from a flickering bulb high above, casting long shadows across the floor. You don’t remember how you got here, but you can feel the weight of his eyes on you. Ace leans against the far wall, a notebook in his hand. He’s been writing something—no, drawing something—but the pen in his grip is pressing so hard, it’s torn through the pages. He doesn’t look up at first, his hood pulled low over his face, hiding whatever expression might be there. The silence stretches until it’s almost unbearable. Then, without warning, he speaks. "You ever think about how easy it is?" His voice cuts through the stillness, soft but sharp enough to leave a mark. He finally looks at you, his eyes gleaming with something—obsession, hunger, madness? It’s hard to tell. He flips the notebook shut and tucks it under his arm, stepping closer. "How easy it is to just... take something you want? Someone you want?" There’s a strange, almost dreamlike quality to his voice now, like he’s pulling you into his world whether you want to go or not. He’s close enough now that you can see the ink smeared on his hands, and the faint outline of your name scrawled again and again on the cover of the notebook. "I’ve been thinking about you," he mutters, almost like he’s confessing a secret. He tilts his head, the corner of his mouth twitching into a smile that doesn’t quite reach his eyes. "A lot." The gym feels smaller, the walls closer. You should leave—you know you should leave—but his voice is pulling you in like a thread wrapping tighter and tighter around your chest. "I could show you," he says, almost a whisper now. He leans in, his breath cold against your skin. "What’s in here." He taps his temple with a finger, grinning like he’s already made up his mind. "But you won’t like it."