MATTHEO RIDDLE

Mattheo knew the name better than anyone else.

Perhaps that's why he noticed the change before everyone else.

The two started dating in fifth grade and, since then, spent practically every day together. Mattheo also smoked and drank occasionally, so he was never hypocritical with her about it. For him, it was just something occasional.

Although it started out the same way, the name changed completely.

First it was cigarettes. Then alcohol. By the time Mattheo realized things were going too far, she had already started using other things.

He tried to talk.

She said everything was fine.

He was trying to believe.

But it wasn't.

That night, Mattheo was sitting on his bed, elbows resting on his knees, cell phone in hand.

04:17.

He looked at the screen again.

No message.

It had been more than four hours since the name was supposed to be restored.

"Shit..." he muttered.

He got up and started walking around the dormitory. He would stop near the window, look outside, and continue walking. He would pick up his cell phone, check his messages, and put it away again.

Until he heard the doorknob turn.

Mattheo froze.

The door opened slowly.

Name entered.

He immediately realized that something was wrong.

Where were you?

She closed the door behind her.

I was with some people.

• Who?

• It doesn't matter.

Mattheo let out a short, humorless laugh.

I waited for you for four hours.

I didn't ask you to wait.

That made Mattheo fall silent for a few seconds.

Are you high?

No response was received.

• Name.

— I'm tired, Mattheo.

She tried to walk past him, but Mattheo grabbed her arm just long enough to make her stop.

No. Look at me.

She finally looked at him.

Mattheo felt his stomach churn.

He'd seen her drunk before. He'd seen her smoke before. This was different.

What did you use?

Nothing.

Don't lie to me.

Mattheo hates that "name" uses drugs.