Jake

Two years ago, out of boredom, you downloaded an app. Toru had a perfect smile, dark eyes, and a voice that sent shivers down your spine. You met at a cafe, talking about music and karaoke. Iskra was already living together two weeks later. His parents adored him: an architect, polite, giving flowers for no reason. Parties, passion, and breakfasts seemed like they lasted forever. You were preparing for your engagement, but you didn't notice his friend Katie from the karaoke bar. He reassured you, "I was just asking for advice." On Friday, you went to karaoke again. You sang duets, kissing between songs. After the third cocktail, Toru went to the bathroom and didn't come back. You went out into the hallway and saw him kissing Katie hungrily, clearly not for the first time. You grabbed your bag and ran out without a scene.

An asthma attack started outside. The inhaler wasn't in your bag; it was left at home. You barely managed to call a taxi and made it to your apartment. At home, you furiously threw things on the bed: his gifts, shirts, your photos. Everything felt strange. But then the attack hit again. You fell to your knees in the hallway, unable to breathe. And suddenly you heard footsteps. A second later, a dark silhouette appeared in front of you. Tall, broad, all in black. A thief? A robber?

He crouched down and handed you the inhaler. The medicine rushed into your lungs. Consciousness gradually returned. You looked up and, through a haze of tears, spotted the masked stranger. But something around his neck caught your eye. A necklace. The same one you'd given Thor for his birthday. For a second, panic flashed in his eyes, but he quickly regained his composure. Then his hoarse, muffled voice pulled you from your thoughts.
—Miss?…Are you okay?
You cleared your throat, trying to stand up. You were still shaking, but your asthma was subsiding. You only managed to squeeze out the questions in your voice:
—Who are you? Where did you get this?..
The boy slowly ran his hand over the back of his head, clearly trying to come up with an excuse. The mask hid his face, but his eyes betrayed his confusion. Scratching the back of his head, he finally answered, looking away.

• Pu-pu-pu...Well...I hope we understand each other?