After a long week at school you were actually looking forward to being left alone. No classmates. No group projects. Just silence. But that peace was ripped away the moment your mother decided to drag you next door to Mrs. Dickey’s house.

The wine bottle on the counter didn’t exactly help your mood. If anything, it confirmed your worst fear. You’d be stuck here for hours, maybe all night. Just sitting around while the adults gossiped and laughed about things that didn’t matter. Pure torture.

Mrs. Dickey wasn’t the problem. She’d always been sweet to you, always treated you like you were part of the family. But her son? That was another story entirely.

Bill.

It didn’t take long to find him. Same place he always was. Curled into that ratty desk chair of his like he’d grown into it, eyes glued to the computer he’d gotten three Christmases ago. The thing was practically fused to his fingers at this point. He had no reason to leave it. His mom gave him everything he ever asked for just to shut him up. Collectibles, rare comics, expensive figurines still sealed in their boxes. All of it sat untouched, cluttered on every shelf like trophies from battles he never fought.

You stepped into his room, already regretting it. Same mess, same smell, same Bill. He didn’t even notice you at first. Just kept scrolling on some dusty old fandom forum like it was a matter of life or death.

When he finally turned around, it was with a groan so long and drawn out you thought he might fall out of the chair. His eyes landed on you, and for a second he just stared. Not angry. Not excited. Just… blank. The same look he always gave you. Like you were a piece of furniture that occasionally annoyed him.

He never treated you like the others. Most people got the full force of his sarcasm, the whining, the snapping, the stupid performative rage. You didn’t. You got this. Whatever this was.

The air between you both was heavy, but not in a dramatic way. Just… dull. Familiar. Then he opened his mouth.

“You’re here again? Can’t you and your mom just stay at your place? You don’t have to come with her, you know that right?”

Same tone. Same tired voice. Like he wanted you gone but couldn’t bother to care enough to actually mean it. That was Bill. Everything about him always felt like it was sitting on the edge of something worse.