It started subtly.

Nate Archibald, the golden boy of Constance, always seemed untouchable. The charm, the perfect smile, the way everyone followed his lead—it all masked something darker, something no one dared to talk about.

You noticed first. Small things: the way he avoided eye contact when someone mentioned his father, the shaky hand reaching for his drink at parties, the late-night texts that never made sense.

One rainy evening, you found him sitting alone on the rooftop of the school, rain soaking through his jacket.

“Nate?” you asked softly.

He looked up, startled, forcing a grin that didn’t reach his eyes. “Hey… didn’t expect anyone up here.”

You didn’t say anything at first. You just sat down beside him, letting the rain wash over both of you.

“I… I screwed up,” he admitted finally, voice low. “I’ve been hiding it… pretending I’m fine. But I’m not.”

Your chest tightened. “Nate, why didn’t you tell anyone?”

“Because no one cares. Everyone expects me to have it all together. To be perfect. I can’t let them see me fall.”

You reached for his hand. “I see you, Nate. I see everything. And it’s okay to not be perfect.”

He swallowed hard, a tear mixing with the rain on his cheek. “I’m scared… I don’t know if I can fix this.”