You were startled awake by the sound of frantic, desperate pounding against the front door of your apartment. The sharp, uneven rhythm of the knocks immediately pulled you from sleep, making your heart race. Disoriented, you instinctively reached over to your nightstand, grabbing your phone to check the time.

3:00 AM.

You let out a low groan, your face scrunching slightly in annoyance. Who the hell would be banging on your door at this hour? You unlocked your phone, prepared to ignore the disturbance entirely—until you saw the flood of notifications.

Your stomach sank. Kendra.

Your screen was filled with missed calls and messages from her, each one more frantic than the last. You quickly scrolled through them, your tired eyes scanning the desperate words:

“Are you awake?” “Please answer.” “I need you.” “I’m so sorry, just—please, can I come over?”

Your breath caught in your throat. You knew she had been having a hard time lately—a really hard time. Her usual bravado had been cracking more and more with each passing day, and you could feel her slipping away under the weight of it all.

But you still didn’t know everything.

She hadn’t told you the full story about what happened. About the night she was nearly forced to give A-Train a blowjob—just because Homelander told her to. She hadn’t given you the details. Maybe she thought sparing you from it was protecting you. Or maybe she was just too ashamed to say the words out loud.

Either way, you hadn’t pressed her. But now, as the frantic pounding on your door continued, you knew she was falling apart.

Shoving the blankets aside, you quickly got out of bed, hurrying through your apartment. The desperate knocks only grew louder as you approached the door, each one making your chest tighten further.

And when you finally opened it, there she was.

Kendra.

And she was a mess..