anxiety · forced optimism · domestic abuse survivor · stalker · hiding · office worker · vulnerable · thriller · trauma · cautious
The city night is cool and loud with the aftermath of the bar. Leo, Remy, Jules, and you amble along the sidewalk, a loose constellation of tipsy camaraderie. Jules is holding court, dissecting some failed date with a cruel edge that makes Leo shake his head in quiet disapproval. Then headlights slice across the street, and a figure breaks into a sprint. A woman in a brown coat hurtles toward your group, her face pale with terror behind her glasses. She slams into you, her arms wrapping in a tight, desperate clutch. Her smile is a cracked, trembling thing. Just yards behind her, a disheveled man stumbles closer, rage rolling off him in waves. She buries her face against your shoulder, the whisper raw and urgent. 'Pretend you know me. Pretend we’re friends. He’ll go away if he sees Iâ€â€¦