I laid in bed with my eyes shut until morning. When the sun finally peeked through the window, Dylan got up and went into the bathroom. I just pretended to be asleep. I didn’t want to talk to him. I didn’t want him mad at me. He was never going to make this pain go away if he was mad at me. I needed to be good.

When Dylan came back out of the bathroom, he walked over to my bed where I lay.

“Hey, I’m going to tell the office you’re still sick and have them make your classes virtual for a while. You shouldn’t leave this room. I’ll make sure you get breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Okay?”

Dylan said as he started stroking my hair. Petting me again.

I slowly nodded.

“Good boy.”

Dylan left for class but kept his word. Meals were delivered to my door. I didn’t get to decide what I ate, but I was just happy to eat at all at this point.

I spent most of the day sitting by the window. I wasn’t interested in music or reading. I just sat there trying to restrain myself from going through Dylan’s things to find that little brown bottle. I’d even take my anxiety meds back if he’d give them to me.

I was isolated in this room, forced to think about last night even though I didn’t want to. I wanted to forget. Lucas is such a monster. For him to treat me so cruelly and then drop a bomb on me like that. I don’t believe him but… he kissed me. He’s got to be telling the truth, right? He wouldn’t go that far.

That was my first kiss… I wasted it on him. But it didn’t feel bad. For some reason it actually felt good but. I’m not… I’m not gay, am I? I’ve never been attracted to anyone really, other than occasionally thinking a girl was really pretty.

This is so messed up… Dylan told me to stay away from him. I should have listened. Then Dylan would have given me the— oh god I don’t even know what he’s giving me.

I’d do anything to just shut my brain off right now.

Later, after dinner, Dylan came back. He brought Megan with him. They sat on his bed and smoked. Meanwhile, I just tried to pretend I was somewhere else.

“Noah, come here.” Dylan said. I didn’t hesitate. I just got off my bed and walked over to him.

“How do you feel?” he asked me.

“I’m okay…” I lied.

“Good. I need you to do something for me. I’ll reward you if you do.”

That put a little spring in my voice.

“Y-yes Dylan. I’ll do whatever you want. Please.” I begged, and that only made him smile.

He gave me instructions to pick up a package from an apartment. The same apartment complex Lucas lived in.

I got ready to leave. I was eager to get this over with so I could get the relief I needed.

I made my way across campus and to the complex. I honestly wasn’t too worried about what was around me. I didn’t have time for that.

Once I reached my destination, I knocked three times as instructed.

A tall, skinny guy came to the door. His hair long and black. He almost looked like a Prince out of those old romance novels.

“Come in.” he said.

I did as he asked.

I followed the guy into the apartment without saying anything.

The place was dimly lit — not dirty, but cluttered. An ashtray full of cigarette butts sat on the edge of the coffee table. A single lamp cast a low orange glow over the couch and a floor covered in discarded hoodies and textbooks.

He moved across the room and crouched near a storage bin by the TV. His long black hair slipped over one shoulder as he dug through it.

“You’re Dylan’s boy, right?” he asked, not turning around.

I flinched at that. “Yeah. I guess.”

“You guess?” He laughed quietly, pulling out a small padded envelope. “You don’t seem very sure.”

I didn’t respond.

He stood and handed it to me. The package was light but sealed tightly. No name. No label.

“Tell Dylan he owes me two this time,” the guy said. “Not one.”

I nodded.

“Also tell him I’m not doing doorstep drop-offs anymore. He’s got too many people watching him now.”

That sent a shiver down my spine.

“Okay,” I mumbled.

He looked at me for the first time — really looked. His eyes weren’t kind. Not cruel, either. Just tired. Distant.

“You should drink some water when you get back,” he said. “That stuff hits harder when you’re dehydrated.”

I didn’t ask what it was.

I didn’t want to know.

I didn’t open the package.

I didn’t even look at it.

I just tucked it into the inside pocket of my hoodie and stepped back out into the night air.

The cold hit me immediately, sharp and grounding in the worst way. My body felt wrong again—too aware of itself. My hands trembled as I shoved them into my sleeves and started walking fast, head down, heart already racing.

Don’t look around.

Don’t think.

Just go back.

I’d almost made it to the edge of the complex when I heard my name.

“Noah?”

My stomach dropped.

I froze.

For half a second, I considered pretending I hadn’t heard. Just keep walking. Just disappear. But my feet wouldn’t move.

I turned slowly.

Lucas was standing near the sidewalk, phone in his hand, jacket thrown on like he’d been on his way somewhere else. The look on his face shifted the moment he really saw me—confusion tightening into concern.

“What are you doing here?” he asked.

I swallowed. “I—I’m just walking.”

“At this hour?” His eyes flicked over me, then past me—toward the building I’d just come out of.

My chest tightened.

“That building?” he said carefully. “Noah, that place is bad news.”

I felt heat rush to my face. “You don’t know that.”

“I do,” Lucas said. “Everyone does. You shouldn’t be anywhere near it.”

I backed up a step without thinking.

“I told you we couldn’t talk,” I blurted. “I shouldn’t even be here.”

His brow furrowed. “You look like hell.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re shaking.”

I clenched my fists. “Please just—don’t. I can’t.”

Lucas took a step closer, then stopped himself. “Did someone send you here?”

“No.”

“You don’t have to lie to me.”

My heart slammed harder. I could almost hear Dylan’s voice in my head—You know what happens when you lie to me, Noah.

“I need to go,” I said, my voice breaking despite my best effort. “I really do.”

Lucas’s eyes dropped, then lifted again—sharp this time.

“What’s in your pocket?”

I stiffened.

“Nothing.”

“Noah.”

I shook my head violently. “Don’t. Please don’t ask me that.”

Something changed in his expression then. Not anger. Fear.

“Is he doing this to you?” Lucas asked quietly.

I snapped.

“No,” I said too fast. “You don’t get to talk about him. You’re the reason I’m like this.”

Lucas flinched like I’d hit him.

“That’s not—”

“I’m fine,” I said again, louder now. “I’m doing better. I just need to go home.”

I turned before he could stop me.

“Noah,” he said urgently. “If you ever need help—real help—”

“I don’t,” I said, already walking away. “I have someone who takes care of me.”

The words tasted wrong as they left my mouth.

I didn’t look back.

I didn’t slow down until the complex was far behind me and my lungs burned from breathing too fast. My fingers dug into the fabric of my hoodie, pressing against the shape of the package like proof.

I’d messed up.

He saw me. He knew something was wrong. And worse—

Dylan would know.

By the time the dorm came into view, my head was buzzing. My skin felt tight again, like it didn’t fit right. Every step felt heavier than the last.

I needed to get back.

I needed to be good.

Because if Dylan decided I hadn’t been—

I didn’t want to find out what he’d do instead.

The dorm room smelled like weed and cologne.

When I stepped inside, Dylan and Megan were still there. She was lying against him like they were something official now—her head on his shoulder, one bare leg draped across his lap. Dylan had a joint in one hand and his other arm wrapped around her waist like it belonged there.

He looked up the moment I walked in.

“Hey,” he said smoothly, like nothing had happened. “You made it back.”

I nodded and pulled the door shut behind me, heart thudding so loud I could hear it in my ears.

Dylan held his hand out. “You got it?”

I reached into my hoodie and handed him the package.

He gave it a quick glance, then tucked it under his bed. No questions. No thanks.

Then he smiled.

“Good boy.”

Something inside me unfroze.

Dylan stood, gently nudging Megan off his lap. “Be right back,” he said to her, then walked over to me. His hand touched the back of my neck like a reward.

“You were good tonight,” he said. “See what happens when you listen?”

I nodded. “Can I—” My voice cracked. “Please.”

He didn’t ask what I meant.

He just pulled out the little brown bottle.

I didn’t even wait for him to measure it. I opened my mouth like a reflex.

He poured a few drops onto my tongue.

That was all it took.

My chest loosened. The cold in my bones started to melt. The buzzing in my skin dimmed, just enough for my brain to stop screaming.

He touched my cheek.

“There,” he murmured. “Much better.”

I would’ve said thank you, but the high hit me too fast to speak.

He guided me toward the bed and let me lie down, then returned to the other side of the room where Megan was waiting, bored and smirking.

I closed my eyes.

Everything felt far away again.

It was better this way.

Until the knock.

Three sharp taps.

I blinked, trying to sit up.

Dylan turned slowly, giving Megan a look that said stay put. Then he walked to the door and opened it halfway.

“Lucas, what are you doing here?” he smiled and asked.

“Where is he?” Lucas’s voice. Rough. Angry.

I froze.

Megan signaled for me to get inside the closet and I did.

Dylan let out a short laugh. “Who?”

“Noah,” Lucas snapped. “I know you sent him to that apartment.”

I held my breath.

Dylan leaned against the doorframe. “I think you’ve got the wrong idea, man. Noah’s not even here.”

“You’re lying.”

“Why would I lie?” Dylan said casually. “I’ve been here all night—with Megan.”

At that, he stepped back just enough for Lucas to see her lounging on the bed, twirling a strand of her hair and pretending not to be eavesdropping.

Lucas didn’t speak right away. But I could feel the tension, even from across the room.

“You’re not looking out for him,” Lucas said finally. “Whatever you’re doing—it’s messing with his head.”

Dylan chuckled. “You don’t get to talk about anyone’s head, Lucas. You broke him.”

Silence.

I pressed myself deeper into the closet, shaking again now—but not from withdrawals this time.

“I’m not leaving without seeing him,” Lucas said.

“You are,” Dylan replied, voice sharp now. “Because you showing up like this? It’s not good for him. You’re the last person he needs.”

There was movement outside the closet—maybe a shove. A step forward. Something in the air snapped tight.

“Get out,” Dylan said flatly.

No more charm. No more jokes.

Just a threat under his voice that made my blood run cold.

I heard the door slam a second later.

Silence.

I stayed hidden.

Dylan didn’t say anything at first.

Then, his voice low and calm:

“You can come out now.”

I stepped out slowly. My legs felt like they weren’t attached right.

“He saw me,” I said. “At the complex.”

“I know,” Dylan said. “And now you see why I told you to stay away.”

I nodded, shame burning under my skin.

“I’m sorry.”

He studied me for a long second. Then—

“Get some rest,” he said. “You’ve had enough excitement for one night.”

I climbed back into bed like I was being tucked into a grave.

And all I could think was:

Next time, I’ll do better.

Next time, I won’t mess up.

Next time… he’ll be proud of me again.