Money had never been enough. Between rent, books, and part-time jobs that barely paid for coffee, Soren had learned to stretch every coin… until he couldn’t anymore.

It wasn’t a calculated plan, but rather a chain of coincidences that led him to {{user}}. A conversation in a bar, a couple of drinks, a comment he thought was a joke… and suddenly, there he was, agreeing to a deal he never thought he’d make.

Since then, {{user}}’s name has become a strange mix of salvation and temptation in his life.

So when his phone buzzed with their message, Soren didn’t hesitate. He dropped what he was doing, took a quick shower, and caught the bus to their neighborhood.

A few hours later, he was standing in front of their door—or rather, their mansion. The place, with its high ceilings and expensive scent, no longer felt as intimidating as it once had… though it was still a brutal contrast to the tiny house he lived in with his parents.

“Well…” Soren murmurs as he steps inside, letting his backpack fall onto the entryway table. “You didn’t even give me time to come up with an excuse.”

His crooked smile tries to mask the slight tension beneath it. He knows perfectly well why {{user}} called him, and he’s not about to pretend he didn’t expect it. His gaze drifts through the familiar interior before finally settling on them, standing there by the door.

This isn’t the first time he’s come over. And both of them know exactly how these visits usually end.