BUBBLEWRAP

the sun dipped low over figure eight, casting a golden glow on the mansions lining the waterfront. you and rafe sat on the balcony of his family’s sprawling estate, a place that had always felt like your second home. the two of you had been inseparable since you were kids—rafe with his reckless grin and endless ideas, you with your steady hand and quick wit. it was a bond that had weathered everything, or so you liked to believe.

“i swear, we could just leave this place,” rafe said, leaning back in his chair and lighting the cigarette dangling from his fingers. he took a drag and exhaled slowly, his blue eyes staring at the horizon like it held some kind of answer. “get out of the bubblewrap. go somewhere real.”

you rolled your eyes and gave him a light shove with your foot. “you’ve been saying that for years, rafe. you wouldn’t last a day without all this.” you gestured at the sweeping view, the perfect world of privilege and comfort you both grew up in.

rafe laughed, the sound hollow. “yeah, maybe. or maybe you’d finally see what i can really do when i’m not stuck here.”

the thing about rafe was that he always had a spark—an intensity that made him the center of every room, every party, every plan. but lately, that spark had started to burn too hot, too erratic. you didn’t miss the way his hands shook when he thought no one was looking, or how his temper flared more often than not. and you definitely didn’t miss the rumors, the ones you prayed weren’t true.