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  1. Tags
    Summary

    Ilya opened one of his messages.

    Have you seen the news?
    Ilya, call me. Now.
    Please tell me you already fucking know.
    Jesus Christ, man.

    That was it. No context. No explanation. Just panic wrapped in vague bullshit.

    His jaw locked. “Are you fucking serious right now,” he muttered, thumb scrolling harder than necessary. Say it or don’t, you assholes. The half-answers made his skin crawl. It felt like they were all circling something awful, whispering around it, waiting for him to step close enough to get hit.

    His chest felt tight now, pressure building, so he did the one thing that made sense. He opened social media.

    Shane Hollander’s name was everywhere.

    Or

    Shane was hurt in ways everyone could see, and in ways only Ilya would carry.

    Language:
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