I'm in the attic in my game room or in my bedroom? I don't remember anything, I just know that...This can’t be happening.Not safe.I’m not safe.I hug myself tighter, digging my nails into my shoulders so hard that I’m shocked my pointy acrylics aren’t breaking skin. My wrist aches from where the officer twisted, and it just serves as a brutal reminder.Every single little noise has my head twitching and eyes darting around. I’m worried about inhaling too deep because it feels like something is going to pop out of the shadows any minute.I haven’t moved since the police left.I don’t even know how long ago that was.All I know is that I was swatted.I was actually fucking swatted.My stomach churns like someone dropped a gallon of sour slushie in it. I’m in danger of throwing up again even though there’s nothing left in my stomach. I feel like such an idiot. Here I was, acting like Panther Hunter was just some nobody spewing idle threats.I should’ve known to report it to the police

The wind howls outside, screaming into the silence, and I crawl into bed and draw my sheets tightly around myself.I squeeze my eyes shut and will my mind to think calm, happy thoughts: my parents, video games, those little Snorlax-shaped doughnuts from the shop downtown.But no matter how hard I try, the tension never leaves. I just end up tossing and turning until my sheets become a tangled mess around my hot body. It takes another two hours before I admit defeat and slip from bed to grab my gaming laptop. Armed with a cup of warmed honey milk, I create a fortress under my sheets and load up a life sim, losing myself in a game where I cancontrol the lives of others so I don’t have to think about the lack of stability in my own.God-fucking-dammit.I eye the waifish woman with thinly veiled annoyance as she slides into the booth across from me and tosses me a shy smile.“I take it my grandmother is not coming.”Her smile falters briefly, but she’s quick to school it with a strained g

She hangs up, and I’m left in the silence of my car. I don’t even bother turning my music on. I’m too annoyed to appreciate it. I just want to stew in my own frustration.How many failed dates would I need to go on until they give up?Too many.Fuck. I wish there was a way out of this without having to actually get a real girlfriend.I mentally accept my death sentence as I swing into the private underground parking garage at our apartment complex and park in my designated spot among Aleks’ and Maker’s luxury vehicles.My mood stays sour the entire elevator ride up to the penthouse. I stop to grab a sparkling water from the fridge before heading into my streaming room.The tension in my shoulders instantly loosens once I’m surrounded by nothing except the green LED glow of the room. I drop onto my gaming chair and crack open my can as I start my computer up. My PC whirs to life, and I admire it with a sense of pride. I built the entire thing from scratch. It had taken longer to build

There’s a man in a black hoodie and black face mask parked on one of the couches by the community pool table. Most people wouldn’t give him a second glance, but I do. Because I recognize him just by his eyes.My platform heels click softly on the tiles as I make my way to him. I force myself to calm and let my mask settle over me with practiced precision—no hint of anxiety leaking out. It’s only when I stop right in front of him that he looks up from the mobile game on his phone. My skin heats from the intensity of his gaze, his eyes swirling pools of bottomless black framed by thick lashes.“Why are you here?”“You headed out?” He meets my bluntness tit for tat.“Um, yeah. I’m going over to Leyla’s.”“’Kay, let’s go.” He stands up, his chest coming to rest mere inches from my nose.I take a startled step back as he steps around me to head out of the complex. My brain glitches for a second as I stare at his retreating form.“Uh…what?”I jog to catch up to his long strides. The fresh o

“Fine, fine,” he huffs, bringing his hand up to fiddle with his cartilage piercings. “What if I offered you some gossip?”Leyla and I perk up.“Gossip?” She grins.“Do spill.” I dramatically clasp my hands under my chin.“Herson’s grandmother has been setting him up on blind dates.”“Wait, seriously?”I couldn’t imagine Herson going on blind dates. He seemed like the kind of guy who only did what he wanted to do and not what someone forced on him.“Tsk.” Stevie rolls her eyes. “I knew this already.”“Yikes, I feel bad for him.” Leyla’s eyes round with pity.“Are they going well?” I don’t know why I ask, but the question leaves my mouth before I have a chance to think twice. I don’t really know that much about Herson, and some part of me is drawn to the news like a magnet.All three of us girls turn to glare at the man camped out in the egg-shaped armchair in the corner.“I can’t believe you invited him.” Leyla shoots eye daggers at Sydney as she enters the room carrying a fresh bowl o