When I hear footsteps in the hall, I kill the screen, close the door behind me, and melt into the shadows.
I duck into a supply closet and wait. Vincent passes by, humming to himself, probably already rehearsing how he’s going to spring this on Ash in some soft, sympathetic way that leaves him broken and grateful for the attention.
Fuck that.
My phone is hot in my hand. I want to smash it. I want to hunt Vincent down right now and put him through the wall.
But I don’t.
I walk, slow, out of the service tunnel, past the arena’s loading dock, past the rink where they’re already scraping up the blood and the sweat and the dreams.
I walk until I’m in the parking lot, the air so cold it stings my lungs, the wet pavement shining under the stadium lights.
I pull up the photos on my phone. Every line of the article. Every violation. I replay Ash’s laugh, the way he let Vincent lean in, the way he let himself be seen.
He’s not going to see this coming.
But I do.
And I will not let him go down like this.
Not after everything.
I text Ash: "You free tonight?"
It takes a minute, but the reply comes back: "Yeah. Where?"
I think about the bench by the water, the one we used to hit after practice, back when things were good.
"Meet me at the spot," I send.
Three dots. "You okay?"
"Never better," I type.
I pocket the phone and walk, heart pounding slow and steady, already planning what I’m going to say.
Ash deserves to know the truth.
And Vincent Chen?
He’s going to pay.
———
The walk to the waterfront is the longest of my life. Every step is a countdown, every breath a rehearsal for words I haven't figured out yet.
The city is quiet at this hour, just the hum of distant traffic and the wet slap of my shoes on the pavement.
The bench is ahead, empty, the water black and endless behind it. The photos sit in my phone like a loaded weapon, every page of Vincent's article, every twisted quote, every lie dressed up as journalism.
I sit down, pull my jacket tighter, and wait.
Whatever I say next will change everything.
But he deserves to know the truth. And I'm done letting someone else write his story.
UNRAVELED
