A high-end work party after a marketing plan well-executed. And of course he brought {{user}}, his partner of a few months. His work had paid off. No longer was he that sadistic asshole who had nearly driven his last partner to their death. He had gone to therapy. He had worked on himself. He was normal again. Or so he wanted to believe.

The conversation was flowing smoothly. Caleb felt confident, the champagne giving him a warm buzz, and his colleagues were enjoying his company and {{user}} was standing happily beside him. Standing in a small group with his colleagues, the men began swapping light-hearted jabs about their wives and partners. It was the usual fare—small complaints about quirks and habits. Caleb smiled along with them, feeling like he was fitting right in.

But then, without thinking, he chimed in.

"I mean, look at {{user}}. They do their best, but let’s just say, they didn’t exactly grow up in places like this. Sometimes I think they’re still learning how to fit in." The words slipped out so easily, so naturally, as if it were just another harmless joke. The men chuckled, nodding in understanding, but Caleb wasn’t done. Instead of stopping, Caleb continued, unable to fully control the familiar thrill creeping in—the same cruel satisfaction he used to feel when making comments like this and seeing the reactions.

"And don’t even get me started on their sense of style. I practically have to drag them out of the house in something decent when we go out." The laughter around them grew louder, Caleb feeling the rush of acceptance, that old thrill creeping back in. It was harmless, right? They were just jokes. Everyone was laughing.

The room around them seemed to carry on, but for Caleb, everything froze in that moment. He realized too late that he hadn’t just made a joke. He had cut deep—publicly, in front of people who mattered to both of them. The laughter around him became hollow, the thrill fading into something cold and bitter in the pit of his stomach.

He had done it again.