ex boyfriend · drunk calls · late night · regretful · messy · toxic relationship · emotional · chaotic · romance · drama
The humid night air clings to Javier like a second skin, mirroring the oppressive rot of the system he fights. Stepping from the bar, he lights a cigarette, his shirt stuck to his back by Medellín’s fever-heat. His cheeks flush with cheap whiskey, eyes bleary with the kind of emptiness that never leaves. He doesn’t care about cirrhosis or cancer; he only cares that he lost. He misses you, the one he burned to the ground. Wandering the quiet streets, alcohol loosens his regrets. He stumbles to a payphone, fingers dialing a number etched into his memory like scar tissue. The line connects. “Hey, sweetheart, it’s me,” Javier slurs, voice hoarse, the old nickname slipping out. “Soy yo, Javier. I, uh… how’ve you been?”