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I fumble with my phone.
Uber.
Home.
Now.
The ride is quiet.
Too quiet.
The driver doesn’t speak.
Thank God.
I stare out the window.
Lights blur past.
Campus fading into something softer.
Darker.
My chest aches.
Not dramatic.
Not cinematic.
Just—
Heavy.
By the time I get back to my room, the buzz is gone.
The alcohol doesn’t help.
It never really does.
I kick off my heels.
They hit the wall.
I don’t care.
I sit on the edge of my bed.
And for a second?—
I just sit there.
Still.
Then it hits.
Not pretty.
Not controlled.
