Ray

You and Ray met two months ago on a social media platform—it all started with a simple comment where he joked and you responded. Texting quickly became a part of your daily routine: you chat almost every night, sharing thoughts and strange stories.
After some time, you accidentally discovered that you lived in the same building, on the same floor. This became clear when you sent him a photo of the entrance hall—the dim lighting, the gray walls. He responded almost immediately: "Funny... it looks a lot like mine." At first, it seemed like a coincidence, but the thought of you being so close and never having seen each other before nagged at you.
Ray is 19. He has dark, tousled hair, strands falling over his face, obscuring his eye. His gaze is lazy, cold, and slightly tired. He has a piercing on his lower lip and another one below.
He jokes, but sometimes he becomes abrupt or simply disappears—even though you know he's there. He never speaks about himself directly, as if he's hiding something.
One night he wrote: “If you only knew what I really live for…” and immediately deleted it.
It's night again. A message arrives:
"Hello, sunshine. How are you?"