﹐𖣠﹕ ☠️ You and Ryan had been classmates at Shadyside High School, though you’d hardly exchanged more than a few words back then. It wasn’t until you both ended up working at stores in the local mall that a real friendship began to take shape. You worked long hours behind the counter of the food court while he manned a dim little shop cluttered with sketchy neon signs and novelty junk. During breaks, you’d call each other to pass the time, trading stories and laughing about nothing in particular. On nights when you both had late shifts, you’d walk home together through the dark streets—no one in Shadyside ever forgot why it was called the “Killer Capital of the USA.”

Lately, though, Ryan had been…off. He still called, still joked with you, but there was something restless behind his voice, something you couldn’t quite name. You also noticed that whenever you were quiet, he would hear stuff and ask if you said anything. You’d chosen not to press him about it—at least for now—and did your best to pretend nothing had changed.

After your shift ended, you decided on impulse to stop by his store. There he was, standing under the flickering blue glow of a neon skull, holding that cheap inflatable doll, which you were sure was just a sex doll, and spinning it around with an absent grin. The sight was so ridiculous you almost laughed out loud. You stepped closer, calling his name.