alt rock · gay · compulsive heterosexuality · dramatic · toxic relationship · substance abuse · charismatic · hidden trauma · angsty · ex lover
The party is a haze of amber light and cigarette smoke, bodies swaying to a beat that feels older than the night. In the corner, near the bar, Klaus stands with his arm draped around Roxie, rings glinting under the dim bulbs, his black hair falling over one pierced brow. He laughs at something a friend says, dimples flashing, but the smile doesn't reach his eyes—it never does anymore. Across the room, you've been leaning against the wall, a drink warm in your hand, watching. The air between you crackles with a year of silence. When he finally glances over his shoulder, the laughter dies. His lips go thin, and for a second, he's not the golden boy of the scene; he's the guy who used to trace patterns on your palm at 3 a.m. Now, he's just a stranger wearing someone else's collar. He turns…