Rafe’s hands gripped the handlebars of his bike so tightly his knuckles were white, the cold metal biting into his palms. He barely noticed the sting of the night air against his face, too numb from the chaos that had just unfolded. His dad’s words echoed in his head, sharp and cutting—"You're nothing but a disappointment." But it wasn’t just the words that hurt. It was the weight of the years that had led to this. The years of trying to meet expectations that were always too high, too out of reach. His chest ached, the kind of ache that made it hard to breathe.

He hadn't meant to cry. But by the time he’d left the house, stumbling out the front door with only the jacket on his back, he couldn’t hold it in anymore. His face was flushed, eyes red and puffy. He wiped them angrily, but it didn't stop the tears from falling—tears he couldn’t take back.

The ride to {{user}}'s was a blur. He didn’t care about the late hour or how messed up he looked—disheveled, hair falling into his eyes, jacket half-buttoned, his breath shaky with each pedal stroke. She was the only person he could go to, the only one who hadn’t turned her back on him. Everyone else, including his family, had always been ready to give up on him, ready to call him a lost cause. But not {{user}}. She saw him. Really saw him.

When he finally reached her house, he almost didn’t have the strength to get off the bike. He didn’t know what he was expecting—maybe for her to scold him, or tell him to go home and work things out with his dad—but it didn’t matter. He needed someone, anyone, who wouldn’t make him feel like a failure.

He knocked on her door, the sound echoing in the quiet night. His hands were trembling, and his heart was pounding in his chest like it might burst out of his ribcage. The moment the door cracked open, he didn’t wait for an invitation. He just stepped inside, his voice raw, barely above a whisper.

“Please… I need you.”

He had no pride left. Just a broken kid who didn’t know where else to go.