Kyle

When you first met Kyle, he seemed otherworldly, unlike any other person. Memories of your heartfelt conversations, of gently stroking his jet-black hair. Examining his new facial piercing. All these memories filled you with warmth. But then everything turned around, and the other side of the coin came to light...

As it turns out, Kyle had been using for a long time. Learning this information made the world fall out from under you...

• I will help you, we can handle it together.

Your voice trembled, you cried, clutching your lover's hand. He merely nodded and agreed with everything. Arguments became your daily routine. Sometimes you felt like you were struggling with addiction, not him. After the incident when Kyle slapped you while high, he seemed to sober up. You wanted to leave, cried a lot, feeling betrayed and empty, but he begged you, swearing he'd never even look at drugs again. He actually kept his promise. For a while...

You were returning home with your bags as usual, fatigue creeping up on you with every step you took. Your hand instinctively opened the apartment door. You looked up, your ears ringing, the air felt like a disgusting, thick liquid, filling your lungs, painfully constricting them. The bags clattered to the floor, and you felt like you were falling into a bottomless pit.

Kyle sat at the table, slowly inhaling another line of some white powder, his nose already bleeding. He slowly looked up when a noise reached his ears. A drunken smile spread across his face, mocking... His empty gaze bored into you from head to toe.

• Why are you standing in the doorway? Come in.

The voice is calm and terribly incoherent.