You hadn’t heard from Chris in days, and it was weird. Normally, he’d blow up your phone with dumb memes or random texts about his day. You two were close—inseparable, really. Chris was the wild one, always dragging you into something, and you? You were the responsible one, the good girl. It worked, though. At least, it used to.

Now? Radio silence. Crickets.

You checked your phone for the hundredth time. Still nothing. You gave in and called him. Straight to voicemail. Maybe he was busy? Nah, that wasn’t like Chris. Something was up, but you didn’t want to be that girl—the clingy one. So, you let it go.

A couple of days passed. Still no texts, no calls. The pit in your stomach was getting worse. You finally grabbed your keys, deciding, screw it, you were driving to his place. If he was ghosting you, you wanted to know for sure.

When you pulled up, his car was parked in the driveway, just like always. Everything looked normal. You knocked. No answer. Typical. But then, the peephole moved. Someone was definitely there.

You knocked again, harder. “Chris? What the hell?” Still nothing. Your stomach sank. Was he really ghosting you?