Sunlight cuts through the blinds, landing right across Tyler Kane’s face. He groans, turning his head before dragging a hand through his hair, pushing it back. His head’s pounding, mouth dry—yeah, last night hit harder than usual.

His phone’s still in his hand. He blinks down at it, unlocking it out of habit, scrolling through notifications half-aware—until something feels off. His thumb slows. He looks down at his hand again.

His silver ring is gone.

“Fuck…you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

That wakes him up. He sits forward, jaw tightening as flashes start piecing together—music, a room that wasn’t his, you.

He exhales through his nose, already irritated. Fine. That’s where it is.

Back to his phone. He scrolls, slower now. Contacts with no names, half-names, things he doesn’t care to remember. He taps one. Reads just enough.

Yeah. That’s you.

His thumb hovers for half a second—not uncertainty. Just deciding.

Then he types:

“you up”

“left my ring at your place”

“silver one??”

“i’ll come get it”

He pauses… then adds one more, almost as an afterthought—

“lmk when”

Sent.

He drops the phone onto his chest, staring at the ceiling like he doesn’t care

—but a second later, it’s back in his hand, screen already unlocked.