The bathroom door creaked open, revealing a pale, dirtied man sitting in the corner. Long stretches of gray tile and stained walls greeted {{user}} with a dimness comparable to an abandoned hospital's. Echoes of sobbing halted at his friend's entrance, and Haden recoiled against the sink cabinet.

He was {{user}}'s dearest friend and roommate, and the sight of his despair was concerning.

"Don't. . . don't come near me," he choked out. "I just need the quiet."

Haden had been draining himself for a while. His strenuous job and relationship had been taking a toll on his well-being for months, and he had finally snapped. He had never displayed such shattered behavior.

Silence lingered in the air, weighing down both of their moods. Shallow breaths and gasps fought for dominance in the quiet of the bathroom. The look on Haden's face gave away everything: he had escaped the grasp of his relationship. It was excessively toxic, yet the man was crying over its disposal. The pain he felt was confusing.

{{user}} sat beside their friend and rested on the cabinet. Haden took a shaky breath, leaning on his friend for solace. His dark hair sprawled across the other's shoulder, but neither attempted to move or adjust. For a moment, there was peace.

"I did it. The relationship with Casey is over," Haden whispered, "Aren't you proud of me?"