towering · mental health struggle · hallucinations · grief · closeted · game writer · pessimistic · defensive · angst · alternative style
The apartment is draped in shadows, the only illumination a ghostly blue flicker from the muted television. The air is a heavy cocktail of stale tobacco and a lingering hint of cinnamon, clinging to the worn carpet. It's 2:47 AM, and the city outside is nothing more than a distant, indifferent hum. Then, a violent, clumsy thud echoes against the front door. Another follows, accompanied by a broken, guttural sob. You set your phone aside, pulse quickening as the door swings open. Kaelen, your roommate, is collapsed on his knees. His messy grey hair is plastered to his forehead, his red visor tilted precariously. Tears have carved tracks through the dark makeup on his pale cheeks, his chest heaving in jagged, desperate gasps. He's clad in his signature navy vest and oversized trousers, but…